Children of the Forsworn
by The Philosopher's Queen
Summary: Set after Eldest. Murtagh struggles with who he is, and what he's become, and Eragon makes a very foolish mistake.
1. Chapter 1

Children of the Forsworn

Set after Eldest. Not my take on book three, it's my own story. It will switch between points of view. As always, I own nothing but the plot and a couple of characters… This is my first ever story…so be nice, although I welcome constructive criticism.

Disclaimer: All characters, names, places etc belong to Mr Paoulini. I just exploit them ;)

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Murtagh landed in the courtyard of the Grand Palace at Uru'baen, several leagues ahead of the battered army returning from Surda, sliding off Thorn with a sigh. He waited irritably for the King's inevitable appearance, twirling the newly acquired Zar'roc in his hands in the same manner that enabled Eragon to finally recognise him at the burning plains.

He didn't have to wait long. Galbatorix flung open the great steel doors and marched out unaccompanied, which surprised Murtagh somewhat. The King stopped a few feet in front of him and glared at him condescendingly. "I had a feeling you'd let him go. I should have checked for loopholes like the one you used. Next time, you will do more than _try_." Murtagh winced and tensed, expecting to be punished severely for his failure. To his surprise, Galbatorix just glared at him. "Well?" he murmured hesitatingly, the silence more unbearable than the anger. "Well what?"

"Aren't you going to…how did you put it…flay me within an inch of my life? I remember that's what you told me before I left, should I fail." Murtagh hissed. The older man shook his head and sighed. "I would if I thought it would make any sort of difference, Murtagh. I take no pleasure in tormenting you; I'm not such a terrible monster. I'm unorthodox, I'll admit, and exceedingly ruthless, but since torture never _did _seem to loosen your tongue…what would be the point?" Murtagh raised an eyebrow disbelievingly, but remained silent. The King sighed again and rubbed his temples, turning to the great ruby dragon who eyed the pair warily. "Thorn, you are to go to the dragonhold, Shruiken will provide you with food."

_Thank you, ebrithil…but…I should like to hunt…_

"No…for now, eat what you are given. Murtagh…go to your quarters, I'll speak with you later."

Murtagh blew the hair out of his dark eyes and crossed the white marble courtyard more quickly than usual, anxious to escape this curiously forgiving and frankly disconcerting side of the King. Heaving on the steel doors, he glanced back at Thorn. _See you later._

_The same to you, young one._ Thorn took off as Murtagh slid through the narrow gap he'd created in the door, closing it behind him. He leant back against it, running his hand through his hair, eyes closed. Whatever was making Galbatorix behave this way, he was grateful for it. He was worn out and aching all over from his confrontation with his younger brother, who had been surprisingly hard to beat…

He opened his eyes and nearly fell over in shock. "Lillian! Jeez…you scared me. How do you _do_ that? Appearing out of nowhere, you're going to give me a heart attack one of these days…" The shy twelve-year-old grinned at him, before wrapping her arms around his waist. Snorting, Murtagh prised her off and ruffled her hair. "Murtaaagh!" she squealed, flattening it down again as he laughed at her. Lillian was the youngest of the King's illegitimate children, with dark eyes and dark blonde hair that was always messy…and at this point, he thought, scrutinising her…short. "You've cut your hair again."

"You noticed! Father likes it long, he wasn't impressed, but you know, since when do I listen to him?" Murtagh shook his head. If one thing could be said for the King, it was that he never punished his daughters. Granted, he never really spoke to them either, but they definitely had it better than he did.

"Come on, I'll walk with you to your room." She took his wrist and dragged him through the twisting stone, granite and marble corridors until they reached his wing of the castle. As they walked past his vast library, he noticed a slight figure hunched over a scroll, sat in the corner. "Lily, let me say hi to your sister…" he let go of Lillian's hand and slipped into the library. Renn, the King's other daughter, glanced up and half-smiled at him. "You have your own library, bookworm." Murtagh laughed. Renn stood and closed the scroll. "Hello to you too, Murtagh. You didn't bring your brother, did you?" She glared at him. "No I didn't. I wouldn't dare disobey you…you're twice as scary as your father." He replied, and she grinned. "If I were Eragon, I wouldn't want to face father's wrath, he's really angered him."  
"I'll say. I'd do anything to keep him from having to come here. I guess I don't have such a bad time here, but when the King holds a grudge, he holds a grudge." Murtagh replied seriously.

After a few moments of contemplative silence, Renn shook herself. "I've got to go, I'm late for my sparring session."

"Oh…are you with Aaran this morning?"

"Yes!" She grinned widely. "So I may just be able to beat him!" Murtagh laughed as she left. Aaran and Renn were twins, the King's first born children. Their mother, and indeed Lillian's, was a noble woman called Rhychel, who was widely accepted as Galbatorix' mistress, and some said, lover. When they'd been born, the King had eagerly taken the little boy to the dragon eggs, but had been disappointed when they had failed to hatch. He resented Aaran for the 'injustice' and was consequentially spiteful when the young warrior crossed his path. Aaran, in turn, hated his father for the lack of love he showed to his two sisters.

They had both inherited their father's black hair; Aaran's was spiky and short, Renn's long with messy curls. They were both adept magicians and admirable warriors, Aaran matching Murtagh's level of skill with a bow whilst Renn favoured the sword and often beat both boys, much to their embarrassment. Luckily for them, she was hopeless with a bow, and lacked the patience to practise her aim. Intruigingly, they were able to communicate with each other in the same manner Murtagh talked to Thorn, through a mind link.

Murtagh himself had always been closer to little Lillian, whom, he supposed, was not so little anymore. He'd been seven when she'd been born, and, whilst the twins had always had each other, his little heart had attached itself to the tiny baby, and they'd grown up together. He'd been the one who'd taught her everything about fighting and surviving, and had been very upset when he'd left her to run away. But now he was back, and she had conveniently 'forgotten' that he'd left her, on account of the fact that she actually had no-one else to talk to. He adored her, and treated her as though she was his own little sister.

When he'd been travelling with Eragon, he'd wanted to mention the little girl to his friend, but had kept it quiet, knowing that any relative of the King was in danger if the Varden ever got wind of their existence. Lillian was the one person in the world, aside perhaps from Thorn or Eragon that he would gladly lay down his life for.

She was hanging around outside the library as he left. "You could have come in, you know!" He laughed at her and she grimaced, sticking her tongue out. "I hate libraries. Books are so boring!"

"You know that's not true. You love it when I read you stories!"

"Yeah, but reading them myself is no fun." She slid her small hand into his and together they wandered up to Murtagh's rather unnecessarily vast bedroom. "Right you," he said when they reached his door, "Disappear. I need to change and have a bath." She pouted, stuck her tongue out at him, then ran back down the corridor, humming. Poor child, thought Murtagh, gazing after her. She'd never been allowed outside the walls of the palace, it was too dangerous. She wasn't content to sit in the castle, and spent most of her time outside in the gardens, planning ridiculous ways of escape.

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Relaxing in a tub of almost unbearably hot water did wonders for your mind, thought Murtagh as he hurriedly towelled his shoulder-length, dark brown hair dry. Flinging on a black undershirt and loose trousers, he collapsed onto his bed, a great weariness having suddenly descended on him. _Thorn?_

_Yes, Murtagh?_

_Are you still angry with me?_

_No, I wasn't really angry in the first place. Yes, deliberately disobeying your ebrithil was foolish, but he _is_ your brother._

_I miss his company._

_I know. But you have Aaran, and the girls._

"I know…" he breathed aloud. He shut off the mind connection and rolled over. It was far too early to even think about sleeping…but he was so tired. Within moments he had given himself to the comforting warmth of his pillow.

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Lillian sat on the soft grass of the inner rose garden that her mother had commissioned, but never used. She knew she would be scolded for the large grass stain on the seat of her dress, but she never really cared. If they let her wear her sparring and training outfits all the time, she'd take better care of herself, but she hated wearing these disgustingly cute little frocks that her mother insisted she looked lovely in. She sometimes wondered what her life would have been like if she had been a boy. She'd have been taken to the eggs, and maybe one of them would have hatched…and her father would have been so proud…

The twelve year old shook the naïve thoughts out of her head angrily. If that had been the case, she would have been subjected to the hours and hours of hard and harsh training that Murtagh had to put up with. She smiled as she thought of her best ever friend. He was seven years her senior, but treated her with respect and kindness, and for that, she loved him. He was her big brother on all levels bar biologically, and, when he was here, she was nearly always at his side, following him around, watching him train with Galbatorix or listening to him recite the Ancient language from a scroll with her head on her arms. Aaran and Renn loved her too, and, showered with love, she knew that she should be content with her life.

But this was not the case. The little girl wished she could have more…see the world…go on one of Murtagh's missions with him, or accompany Renn and her maids into town…but she wasn't allowed, not until she was sixteen, which seemed a lifetime away. She knew the courtiers thought her strange and unladylike, she was always getting dirty, and never showed up for dinner on time. She grinned as she remembered the last eight years of her life, which were full of mischief and pranks. She wanted so much to run away from her fussy mother, her uncaring father and this oh-so-stuffy way of life…

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Murtagh stirred, sensing in his sleep that something wasn't right. His eyes snapped open and he tried to sit up, but something was stopping him. Shaking his head to clear his thoughts, he glanced down. To his surprise and anger, heavy chains bound him to his bed, and he let out a feral snarl. A chuckle to the right of him made him swivel his head, and he met the cold, dark eyes of the King of Alagaesia.

"So the whole 'I'm-not-going-to-torment-you-anymore-Murtagh' thing was an act."

"That depends very much on you. These are for my protection."

"Oh, because I'm such a _huge _threat to you, right?"

"Indeed you are. Although, I suppose I could have used magic to force you to be still. I've weakened your own magic, by the way, so don't even try to break free." Murtagh bared his teeth and growled, "So how exactly do I threaten you, _weak_ as I am?" His voice dripped with sarcasm and Galbatorix laughed hollowly. "I'm old, Murtagh, very old. I have no doubt you could do some real damage with those fists of yours."  
"As if you'd let me anywhere near you."  
"That's the puzzle, isn't it?" The King grinned, and Murtagh shook his head. The King was mad.

"Whatever." he muttered. "What do you want?"

"Information, of course. What do I always want?" Murtagh rolled his eyes. He should have known. "I assume about Eragon? The elves? The Varden?"

"There's nothing more I can learn about the Varden. But…your little brother…" a sadistic grin crept onto his face. "I should like to know his strengths and weaknesses…the skills he has gained since the last time the two of you were together." Galbatorix looked at him expectantly and Murtagh let his breath out in a long hiss. "And if I refuse?"

The King sighed. "How many times must we repeat ourselves, Murtagh?" He clenched his fist and pain streaked up Murtagh's arms as the chains binding him suddenly tightened. He let out a gasp of surprise. Galbatorix shook his head and continued. "There, you see? It's the same every time…you refuse, I hurt you, you refuse again, I lose my temper, you pass out, and I take the information straight from your mind anyway. It would be so much simpler if you just told me…"  
"I guess I'm just a slow learner, then." Murtagh murmured angrily, then cried out in pain as the chains tightened even more. "Do what you like…" he gasped. "You know I'll never tell you…"

"It's your choice." Pain exploded from his chest and lanced through his limbs. He arched his back and the last thought that flashed through his mind before he passed out was, _I hate him I hate him I HATE HIM!_


	2. Chapter 2

Children of the Forsworn

Okay, another chapter. Review responses first for my 3 lovely reviewers:

**Dominic:** I don't think I've ever seen such a long review! Thanks! You'll understand just how mad the King really is later on, I hope you'll keep reading ;)

**Imma Yellow Unicorn: **thank you! I'm sorry to say that we won't be following Murtagh ALL the time…but I hope what I'm going to provide is ok:)

**jimmy-barnes-13:** glad you're looking forward to more…here it is ;)

I will give you all chocolate. Um…in the absence of chocolate…_have a chapter_.

Anyway, the story continues. We will leave Murtagh and the King's children in this chapter, and rejoin Eragon…but it won't be for long…I love Murtagh too much! This chapter is a bit longer than the last one, because it was originally going to be split, but I wanted to get to the action quicker, so both were edited and squished together…I hope you don't mind ;)

Disclaimer: We know the drill…it doesn't belong to me, etc etc.

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"Time to make good your promise, cousin." Eragon glanced up at Roran in annoyance. "I know I know, give me chance! I'm packing, because, you know, we need _food_. It's a long way to Dras-Leona." Roran gave him a playful punch. "Just checking." he grinned and Eragon shook his head and smiled back. "I'm just anxious to go, that's all." Roran continued, the smile slipping off his face as quickly as it had appeared. He was worried, Eragon knew, and with good reason.

Eragon himself was nervous about the trip and the ensuing rescue. The Ra'zac were demonic, and he was loath to face them. But he'd promised his cousin, and he didn't go back on a promise. Saphira huffed and poked her head into his tent. _Are you done or do I have time to go and hunt?_

_Take your time. Have some fun, it'll take me a few hours to finish, and my new sword hasn't cooled yet._

_Is it finished then? Is it as good as Zar'roc?_

_Yes it's finished, and no, it isn't as good as Zar'roc…damn Murtagh, leaving me swordless…_Eragon sighed as he thought of his captive brother. He couldn't bring himself to hate the man who'd once been his greatest friend, and more recently, his brother.

_Brother_. How could he not have seen it? They looked alike, behaved alike…they even thought alike. His heart went out to him, and he realised that he would never be able to kill him, not now he knew who the older man was…damn it, Eragon wasn't Morzan, he wouldn't kill in cold blood…he'd killed to survive…but he couldn't even think about facing Murtagh in combat. He slowly shook his head, aware that if he dwelt on these thoughts whilst fighting the Ra'zac…well, it would probably be the last mistake he ever made.

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Barely an hour later, Saphira was back, looking smug and satisfied. "Find much?" Eragon asked aloud, flinging his pack onto her back and securing it with thick rope. _Yes thank you. An old deer…an easy catch._ Eragon grimaced and Saphira chuckled in his head. _If you didn't want to know, why ask?_

"I was being polite…" Saphira huffed in amusement and he rolled his eyes. He was definitely a vegetarian. Maybe being a Rider and a vegetarian just went hand in hand? He wondered briefly if Murtagh was a vegetarian. Or Brom, he'd never paid attention to what the old man had cooked for himself…he'd never asked. A wave of sorrow for his two friends welled up inside him. Was he doomed to be distant from the world, lest he endanger them?

He glanced up; someone was approaching. It was Arya. Eragon inwardly groaned, this was NOT what he needed. An angry looking elf with a grudge against him…he'd long since got over his infatuation and realised that now was not the time for love. He now felt intensely embarrassed every time they talked. "Arya svit-kona." He said stiffly, inclining his head. She nodded curtly then half shouted, "Eragon, are you _leaving_?"

"Yes. I promised my cousin…" he trailed off under her angry gaze. "You're _supposed_ to go back to Oromis and complete your training!" She hissed. Eragon closed his eyes and growled, "A promise is a promise. Besides, I can't face training again…not yet."

"Can't _face_ it?"

"You wouldn't understand…" he murmured. Truth be told, he didn't want to think about being a Rider, let alone carry on the training. Now he knew _why_ he was one, it was harder to accept than when he hadn't known…his expression hardened and he looked up at Arya. "I said I'll go back, and I will. But Katrina is my friend too, I won't leave her, neither will Roran."

"Don't you understand?" Arya said desperately, seizing his wrist to stop him turning away. "It's got to be a trap! Why would they keep her alive otherwise? They know Roran loves her, and they know he's your cousin! They want you two!" Eragon froze. _Of course._ Arya gasped. "You hadn't figured that _out_?"

"Honestly? Erm…no…we just assumed they took her because she was an easy target!"

"You're hopeless!" Arya exclaimed. "I understand why you want to go…and if you feel you really have to…be careful. Don't get yourself caught. I mean it, I'll come to Uru'baen and kill you myself." She smiled reassuringly and let go of his arm, and he grinned weakly in reply, turning the thought of them getting caught over and over in his head.

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Roran didn't like flying. He _really_ didn't like flying. He was safer, happier and better off on the ground. This feeling was alien to him, and it didn't help that all he had to hold onto was his cousin's loose white shirt; he _was not_ about to cling to Eragon's waist. Saphira went into a shallow dive, and he gasped.

Oh no. He was hanging onto Eragon's waist. He coloured slightly, laughing hollowly at the irony of what he'd been telling himself only seconds before. With some trepidation he let go and grasped his shoulders instead. Eragon laughed, the sound carried to his ears by the whipping wind. "You _can_ hang on, I won't tell anyone."

"It's not a matter of you telling anyone, it's a matter of my ego, and how fantastically bruised it will be if I hang on to my _younger_ cousin's waist because I'm scared of falling off his flaming _dragon_."

"I see you're point." Eragon agreed, but he was still laughing. Roran grimaced, then turned his attention back to…well…thin air.

He shuddered. He _definitely_ didn't like flying.

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That night, they rested just outside Melian. Eragon had refused to go in, knowing how precariously close to Uru'baen they were, and Roran had nodded, understanding that there might be guards loyal to the King inside. They both already knew of the wanted posters, they'd no doubt that there were two more in Melian. So here they were, about ten miles South of the town, hiding in the nameless forest, well out of sight of the townspeople. Saphira was far too recognisable, so they were only resting, intending to fly over at night, hopefully hidden by cloud cover.

The cloud cover was another issue…they were definitely rain clouds, which would mean getting soaked through and freezing cold. Eragon could sense the oncoming thunderstorm, and by extension, so could Saphira, and she was getting agitated. _I hate flying in thunder._

_Hopefully we'll avoid the worst of it._

_I don't think so. The clouds stretch for miles, we'll be flying through it tomorrow, if not tonight, and it'll be around when we reach Helgrind for sure._

_So cheerful. _Eragon grinned slightly and was nudged indignantly by Saphira. Roran wandered over with a string of rabbits, and Eragon resisted the urge to throw up. It was getting worse, this feeling of nausea every time he saw meat. "Don't even think about eating that in front of me."

"Still hate meat?"

"Aye." Roran obliged by moving behind him to skin and prepare the rabbits, for which Eragon was eternally grateful. He leaned against Saphira who nudged him again, although affectionately this time. He looked North, and the flatness of the terrain enabled him to see the looming outline of Helgrind, barely visible on the horizon. He shivered and snuggled closer to Saphira. _I don't want to face the Ra'zac…they killed Brom…_

_I know, little one. You are strong enough. You've grown up since then._ Eragon sighed and closed his eyes. His dragon covered him with her wing. _It's a couple of hours until nightfall. Sleep, I'll watch over you and Roran._ Not bothering to reply, Eragon fell into an exhausted sleep, plagued by dreams of the Ra'zac and the impending confrontation.

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It was Roran who finally nudged him awake, and he rolled over drowsily. "Is it dark yet?" he muttered without bothering to open his eyes. "Yes." Roran laughed, and groggily Eragon forced his lids open. "Urgh." Saphira laughed in his head as he shook himself awake. His cousin hauled him to his feet and Eragon clutched him head. "Alright?" Roran asked warily, concerned. "Aye…" Eragon murmured. "Bad dreams, that's all." With a sigh he leapt lightly onto Saphira's back, helping Roran up behind him.

He suddenly realised there was rain on his face. "Oh great." He moaned, wiping the water out of his eyes. Roran grinned humourlessly. "I know, it's been raining for over an hour, you're lucky, you have a dragon wing to keep the water off."  
"Has there been any thunder and lightning yet?"  
"No, not yet. There will be though, it feels clammy." Roran growled irritably. Eragon smiled, neither of them had ever liked thunderstorms. They used to curl up in bed together when they'd been very small, and his aunt and uncle had come in to comfort them…

Shaking himself out of the reverie, he turned to Saphira. "Ready?"

_As I'll ever be_… She took off, Roran clinging to his waist. "I see…what happened to your ego?"  
"It hit rock bottom when it began to rain. I'll slip off if I don't hold on any other way." Eragon chuckled as they spiralled higher. Almost instantly they were in the clouds, and soaked. Eragon began to shiver, glad that he'd had the foresight to wrap an extra shirt around himself for warmth. Not that it helped much. He leaned forward in Saphira's saddle, trying to keep the worst of the rain off them. Saphira flashed a thought into his head. _This is difficult, Eragon, I hope Melian isn't too big…_

_Definitely not, it's relatively small, hopefully we'll be out of sight and can dip back below the clouds._

_I doubt it'll make much difference…Eragon, you're shivering, cast a spell._

_I'd rather save my strength._

_You're going to be useless if you catch pneumonia. Do it._

"Alright…" he touched his chest and murmured "Beurin." Instantly, warmth flowed through him and he stopped shivering. He turned around, and before Roran could protest or ask what he was doing, he repeated his action on his cousin. A muffled cry and a startled, "Thanks…" later, they were on their way again.

Presently they dipped below the cloud, comfortable in the knowledge that there was now nothing between them and Dras-Leona. Saphira flew hard, and they continued through the night in silence until the first pale streaks of dawn were visible on the horizon, along with the rather more threatening outline of Helgrind. Eragon turned to Roran. "I hate Dras-Leona. It's a dump. Do you want to stop there or keep going to Helgrind?"  
"Keep going. I want to see Katrina." Eragon nodded, but couldn't help but feel that something was wrong. "Are you tired yet, Saphira?"  
_I can keep going._

_Are you sure? We can stop if you like…_

_I want to be in and out and flying away again by tonight. I have a bad feeling about this._

_Me too. _Saphira didn't reply, so Eragon turned to Roran. "Try to sleep. You won't fall, I'll stop you, and I had a nap earlier." Roran shook his head. "I can't, Eragon, we're so close. Besides, I wouldn't be able to on the dragon."

"Call her Saphira. It's her name, you'll insult her."

"Sorry." Roran muttered guiltily. "And sorry Saphira…"

_Tell him It's ok. _Saphira said. Eragon relayed the message.

Barely an hour later, they dipped lower, circling Helgrind. They were high enough to be mistaken for a large bird from Dras-Leona, but to the Ra'zac they'd be horribly visible. Eragon knew they'd been spotted already, Saphira was hard to miss, and the Ra'zac certainly weren't blind. He elbowed Roran and motioned to the ground, not trusting himself to speak as apprehension threatened to overwhelm him. They landed right outside and slid off Saphira. "Bit brazen, Eragon." Roran growled, glaring at him. "You can't be subtle with these things, Roran, it doesn't work." He frowned and surveyed the four hideous peaks and the rocky, misshapen building that dominated them. "Something isn't right…" he murmured.

Suddenly his fears were realised as a high pitched screeching sound erupted behind them. They whirled round, Eragon drawing his sword, his heart leaping in his chest. Sure enough, both Ra'zac had circled them, trapping them between their citadel and themselves. Both were sat astride the lethrblaka, leering at him. He shuddered and shoved Roran hard in the stomach. "Get Katrina while they're both outside, I'm sure you can deal with human guards…" Roran didn't move. "Go!" Eragon cried, and Roran ran towards the door. Eragon whirled round, remembering something. "Jierda!" he cried, and the great doors blasted into a hundred pieces. Roran faltered only a second before disappearing into the gloom.

He slowly turned to face the Ra'zac, all too aware he'd used up a large amount of energy breaking the door down. One hissed, "Come, little Rider…let usss tessst your ssskillsss…" Eragon didn't bother to reply, he leapt back onto Saphira and took off, leading them away from Roran. Saphira circled and hurled a stream of fire at the two Ra'zac, who separated and looped him. Eragon swore and they flew upwards. They were faster and easily overtook him, forcing him downwards. He cried out and Saphira roared in desperation as they plummeted towards the ground. They pulled up at the last minute, only to find themselves caught between the inhuman riders. He swore again as they drew long black scythes and began to strike at him. It took all of his strength and speed to block both weapons, and Saphira was doing her best to keep him out of their range.

He blocked a blow to his neck from the Ra'zac on his right and forced the scythe away, but hadn't counted on the second blade, which cleaved into his unprotected left side. He screamed in agony and almost dropped his sword, which wasn't even _named_ yet…why had he not thought to wear protective armour? He blinked blearily several times, trying to ignore the pain as he swivelled round on Saphira to protect his injury. "Brisingr!" he cried, and he caught both of them, grimacing with satisfaction as they both screeched in agony. He knew it wouldn't stall them for long. _Saphira, we need a plan!_

_I know that!_ She called back desperately. _I don't have time to think…_As if to reiterate her words, one of the gigantic winged beasts suddenly appeared in front of her, blocking their escape route. To Eragon's horror, the other one was directly behind him, and they resumed their strike, faster this time. It was clear now that they were angry, they'd stopped playing with him, now they just looked murderous.

Eragon flung his sword up against a blow to his head, and was distressed at the amount of effort the small movement had taken. He was tiring quickly, unable to keep up against the dual attack. _Saphira…_he called desperately. _I knew I wasn't strong enough…_

_They knew exactly how to attack you, Arya was right; they anticipated your arrival…_

_I knew something felt wrong!_ Eragon tried to pull up, but was blocked. He cried out and both Ra'zac grinned maliciously at him. "Ssso ssssmall, ssso incompetent…" Saphira shot upwards again, trying to lose them, but they stayed close, and Eragon felt his heart plummet. _They weren't getting out of this…_Saphira was running out of energy, and one of the Ra'zac was right behind him…where was the other one? He twisted his head, but it was slightly too late, hands grasped his shoulders and ridiculously long nails sliced into his skin. He gasped and flung up his hands, struggling with the Ra'zac, unaware that his sword had slid out of his grip. All he could think about was the cold, clammy hands gripping his shoulders.

He felt himself dragged off Saphira, and he cried out. "No!" Saphira roared in fear and attacked the lethrblaka. Then he was pulled roughly onto it and the blue dragon veered away, scared she'd strike Eragon. His hands were wrenched behind his back and he was forced forward, gasping for breath as black gloved hands encircled his neck, choking him…he couldn't breath…he heard a desperate cry…

_Eragon! ERAGON!_

He couldn't see, he was choking, struggling…fighting against the hands that suffocated him…then he blacked out.

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Roran and Katrina were pressed against the walls of Helgrind, stunned. They'd seen everything, and Roran felt his heart grow cold as Eragon was dragged off Saphira. The Ra'zac flew over Helgrind, forcing Saphira to follow, scared as she was, and then they were gone. Katrina grasped his hand, and Roran bit his lip. "What are we going to do now?"

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Urgh, I hate writing battle scenes. I'm not very good at them, I'm better when it's one sided. (evil grin) Sorry about skipping the Roran-rescues-Katrina bit, I deleted this. If anyone want to see it, I'll post it at some point, and it isn't really relevant to the story. They just need to see Eragon get kidnapped. dan dan daaaaa! Three guesses where the poor kid's going? I hope this isn't too fast paced, but the story needs them all to be together, and I had to get Eragon captured somehow.

Eragon: Thanks, Shadow.

Me: Ha, you wait.

Eragon: why do I get a bad feeling about this?

Me: Muahahaha. Serves you right for invading my head in the first place.

Eragon: (splutters) I did not _invade_!

Moving on…chapter three will be up quickly, I'm well into it. Following chapters may take a little longer, all my plot bunnies escaped and I'm trying to round them up with a big stick…it's not going very well…REVIEWS PLEASE!


	3. Chapter 3

Children of the Forsworn

Yay! Another chapter! As last time, review responses…I'm now letting anyone review, so if you couldn't last time because you weren't logged in, feel free to now! Should have mentioned that last chapter…oops. Ah well, it hasn't fazed any of you.

**Imma Yellow Unicorn:** Thank you! It strikes me that CP has made Eragon grow up too quickly, and I thought, hey, he's only 16, so my Eragon is a little more childish and less…well…boring.

**jimmy-barnes-13:** Yes, I liked that line as well, a flash of comic inspiration there. Oh and thanks for the comment about the battle scene, although I did rewrite it about 6 times before deciding I liked it enough to post…

Right, now that's sorted…this is where it gets confusing. Points of view will change more frequently now all the characters are in the same place. I'm playing around with two endings, one is a lot more sad than the other…although I'm not even close yet. ;).

By the way, I'm planning a sequel, and for those who are interested in the back-story of Lillian, Renn and Aaran, there is a prequel somewhere on the horizon too. Woo, trilogy! (She says, writing the middle one first. I'm an incarnation of George Lucas. I apologise.)

A warning…there will be torture in this chapter. Sorry if that's not your thing, but I need it, it's kind of important to the plot. You can always skim read it and not read the scary bits. It's not that bad. Honest…

Eragon: says you.

Me: why is it always _you_ talking? Go away, I'm writing.

Eragon: (mutters)

Disclaimer (sigh – we go through this every time…) nothing is mine, it all belongs to CP.

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Lillian wandered the grim, dark corridors of the palace moodily, kicking her feet. She was lonely. Aaran had gone out riding somewhere, and Renn was in the library, probably frantically searching the 'antiquity' section for glimpses of the old order of the Dragon Riders. She was obsessed, and the fact that such tomes were forbidden by Galbatorix only increased her interest. She thought that Murtagh was in his room, being all moody. He'd hardly spoken to anyone since Galbatorix had interrogated him, and she couldn't blame him, he'd been furious at the invasion of his privacy. He'd always had some level of sanctuary in his room, but lately that had not been the case. Lillian sighed, and glanced out the window.

She moved over and leaned on the stone sill, gazing at the gloomy weather. It had begun to rain yesterday, and it hadn't let up since. There was thunder rolling around in the distance to the West, but not close enough to be dangerous. She looked down at the courtyard, her eye catching some sort of commotion. Squinting through the rain, she could make out three figures making slow progress across the ground. The progress was slow because one of the figures was pulling against the other two, struggling and squirming. She ran to the next window, trying to get a better view. The person in the middle was trying his best to get away, and Lillian heard a strangled cry. "No!"

The person was small, no match for the two hideous looking creatures that dragged him. Lillian wrinkled her nose, they were repulsive and inhuman, and clearly enjoying themselves. She knew enough about the Ra'zac to know what she was seeing. Suddenly there was an agonised roar, and a huge blue shape appeared behind the three figures. She gasped. It was a blue version of Thorn, a _dragon_. She glanced back at the Ra'zac, and peered intently at the third person. He had light brown hair that the rain had plastered to his face, and wide, terrified brown eyes. He was young, younger than her brother and sister, just a boy…then it clicked.

Eragon. Murtagh's little brother. The other Rider…hence the dragon…She mentally kicked herself for taking so long to figure it out.

Fear flooded her. She had to find Murtagh, he'd tried so hard to keep Eragon safe…no…she had to know where they were taking him first. She cursed her naivety. She was too young for this, how on earth was she supposed to know what to do? Gods, she hated being twelve. She glanced outside again, and watched with a sick sense of dread as the Ra'zac dragged the protesting boy into the palace. She fell against the wall, her hand flying to her forehead. _Think, girl, think!_ Where would they take him? Where was her father? She made up her mind and flew down the corridor.

Two flights of stairs and three corridors later, she skidded to a halt outside the door to the King's throne room, hoping against hope that her hunch had been right. She pressed herself behind one of the columns, hiding in the shadows. Sure enough, barely seconds later, a door crashed open further down the corridor, and she shrank back against the wall as the Ra'zac entered. She was terrified of them at the best of times…Eragon was still struggling, although the fear in his eyes told Lillian that he knew it was futile. "Can't you sssshut him up?" One black cloaked figure growled. The other merely grunted in response, and struck the teenager sharply across the face. The resounding _crack_ made Lillian wince, and the force of the blow sent Eragon to his knees, taken aback. His right arm had been twisted behind his back, one of the Ra'zac's slimy fingers pressing on the pressure point of his wrist, just below a shining silver tattoo that matched Murtagh's. They were close enough now so that she could see everything, and for a second, she frowned.

Eragon had a far more delicate appearance than his brother, he looked…well, she'd never seen an elf, but had read about them…elfin. His face was smooth, unmarked and slightly angular, and the tips of his ears were very slightly pointed. Funnily enough it looked normal. If she'd had pointed ears it would have looked stupid. She raised an eyebrow, wondering why he looked the way he did. Was it purely because he'd been trained by the elves? She'd have to ask him.

If he lived.

He was dragged to his feet, and Lillian's heart hammered as they moved past where she was hiding and stopped. If they caught her skulking around outside the Throne room, there'd be the devil to pay. Eragon struggled half-heartedly, still looking rather stunned. He stared up at the doors, eyes now strangely blank, although when they opened, a flicker of fear darted across them briefly. There was a quiet but triumphant laugh from within, and Lillian flinched at the sinister undertone. She blinked and they were gone, all three having disappeared inside. She swore and darted out just as the door slammed shut.

At the last second, she stuck her foot in the way, and the door crashed onto it. A shattering pain reverberated up her leg and she bit her lip violently, trying desperately not to scream. The wretched thing was heavier than she'd thought.

Still, she'd achieved what she'd hoped. The door was open a crack, and, taking a deep breath, she moved closer and peered through the gap. Her foot throbbed painfully, and she curled her toes, trying to coax some feeling back into them, wincing.

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Eragon mentally cursed everything he could think of, especially himself. Why…no, _how_ had he been completely idiotic enough to get kidnapped by Ra'zac? Where was Roran? He was physically and emotionally exhausted, and he was in Galbatorix' throne room. _What?_ He thought blearily, trying to organise his thoughts. He was shoved to his knees, and a cold hand grasped his hair and wrenched his head back. He cried out softly in surprise and winced.

"Well well. How wonderful, we have a guest." A low but harsh voice murmured from the darkness. Eragon flinched, but took a second to look around. The room was hideously dark, draped in black and red material and lit by the odd candle here and there. Stone floors and a high ceiling made it feel cold and gloomy, and his eyes finally came to rest on a dark and very tall figure stood some ten feet away from him. He was thin, and dressed in red and black, matching the 'interesting' décor of the room. In his hand he fingered a long, thin, black-bladed sword. His face was thin and angular, his eyes were such a dark shade of green they were almost black, and his mouth was a thin line that was currently smirking.

"So you are the great Eragon Shadeslayer. I hadn't realised you were quite so young. Fifteen? Sixteen?" Eragon screwed his face up, refusing to answer and closing his eyes, trying to stop his heart fluttering _quite_ so madly. Suddenly cold steel was at his throat and he gasped, his eyes flicking open. The King was right in front of him, the point of his sword touching his neck. "I suggest you answer me, boy. Don't be rude." Slowly, he dragged the sword point up Eragon's neck to his chin, forcing his head up and leaving a thin, neat cut. Blood welled up and Eragon hissed in pain, biting his lip. There was absolutely no mercy in Galbatorix' eyes, so Eragon muttered, "Sixteen."

The King tutted. "So young. Too young to deserve what I'm about to do to you." Fear seeped through him and he flinched. Galbatorix ignored him and continued. "Or maybe not. You've been a bit of a pain, my boy…you killed my Shade, and several hundred of my men…several thousand in fact, you and that dragon of yours. Saphira? How sweet." He leered at Eragon, and the smaller boy shuddered. The King was only inches away from him now, and the black sword was millimetres from the side of his face. He was unable to move, aware that the two Ra'zac still held him in an iron grip. He briefly ran through a list of spells, but he was too tired, and besides, he couldn't move his hand.

With a cold ruthlessness, Galbatorix pressed the blade to his face. "Such a shame to mark such a pretty face. You resemble your mother, and maybe your brother, if just a little. Curious…there's hardly a hint of Morzan in you…" With that, he slashed Eragon, leaving a deep gash running from his forehead to just below his right eye. He howled in agony and the Ra'zac dropped him, writhing, to the floor.

Blood clouded his vision and he desperately swiped at his eyes, which did _not_ hurt, something which Eragon was grateful for: the sword had missed them, which meant he wouldn't go blind. He heard Galbatorix hiss a few words, and his whole body arched, pain exploding in his chest. He shrieked, unaccustomed to pain of this intensity, and The King laughed.

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Lillian had seen enough. Sick fascination had kept her there too long already, she needed to find the boy's brother. There were tears in her eyes; Eragon would have a scar sweeping diagonally across his face forever… She bolted, desperately hoping Murtagh would be in his room.

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Murtagh blinked a few times. Something was wrong. He could hear screaming in his head, and Thorn was trying to say something. His thoughts were too jumbled since Galbatorix had messed with his mind. He got up and his head spun. He threw open his bedroom door and stepped into the corridor.

There was a little scream as something small barrelled into him. He swore and took a step back. Lillian sat on the floor in front of him, rubbing her elbow, tears running down her face. "Lily!" he exclaimed, hauling the little girl to her feet. "What's wrong?"

"Father…" she gasped, breathing hard. "He has your brother…they're…in his throne room…he's hurting him!" Another flood of tears cascaded down her face as her words hit him.

Eragon…Anguish and fear filled him, and he grabbed Lillian's thin wrist. "Are you sure?" he hissed. She nodded. That was all the confirmation he needed. He began to run, dragging Lillian back the way she'd come. She kept up easily, anxiety for her best friend's kin giving her energy. Within minutes they were outside the slightly open door, panting. A pain-filled voice echoed from inside. "I'd rather…die…than help you…" Murtagh knew that voice, as distorted by pain as it was.  
"Don't be boring." A malicious voice that was clearly the King replied. "I could kill you, yes, but why would I want to do that?" There was a cry of agony and a vicious laugh. Murtagh made to shove the door open, but was pushed back against the wall by Lillian, who was showing surprising strength.

"No!" she cried. "If you go in there, he'll hurt you too, or worse, he'll figure out that what hurts _you_ most is seeing Eragon get tortured! Don't make it worse for him!" Her pale blue eyes gazed imploringly up at him. He clenched his fists and murmured, "You're too clever for your own good, you know that? But you're right." It made him feel horrible, knowing that he could do nothing to prevent what was happening in the throne room. Lillian stared at him. "Don't watch. Don't react. For his sake." She whispered.

Agonisingly slow minute passed after agonisingly slow minute. Murtagh flinched every time Eragon cried out or screamed. Lillian had pushed him into the shadow of the column. "They'll be coming out any second." Sure enough, the screaming had stopped, replaced by a low, agonised moaning. "They?"

"The Ra'zac brought him in." Murtagh swore. How had they got their filthy hands on him? The door opened and they pressed themselves against the wall, Murtagh encircling the small girl with his arms for protection. The Ra'zac exited and left reasonably quickly, followed by the King himself. Galbatorix frowned a little and took half a step forward, then shook his head and walked away down the corridor, presumably to his private wing of the castle.

Instantly Murtagh sprinted into the high room, and his breath hitched in his throat. Pity flooded him as he fell to his knees beside his younger brother. Eragon looked so small…he was covered in blood and bruises, and his hands had been viciously wrenched behind his back and bound with thick rope. His eyes were closed. "Lillian…" he muttered, "Go and fetch Renn…"  
"But –"

"Do it!" Lillian turned tail and fled. Murtagh shook with anger as he hissed "jierda." The rope broke and Eragon stirred. The dark haired boy gently lifted his arms clear and pulled the younger boy into a gentle embrace. There was a long gash across his face, and Murtagh let his hand touch it. "Waíse haill!" The wound knitted itself together, leaving a thin scar. "Adurna…" water welled up in his palm, and he splashed it onto his sleeve, before wiping the worst of the blood off his little brother's face. Eragon moaned, and his eyelids flickered, and then opened.

Brown eyes, clouded by pain, stared up him. The younger boy gasped and flinched. "M…Murtagh…" he murmured, fear showing plainly on his face. Murtagh flinched too. "I won't hurt you, Eragon, I promise…please…don't be frightened…I'm helping you!" Mistrust flickered behind his brother's eyes, but as he tried to pull away, he cried out in pain and slid out of Murtagh's grip. He fell to the floor, shivering.

Murtagh stepped back, afraid that if he touched him again, Eragon would hurt himself trying to get away. Of course he had no reason to trust him, but it still hurt. A hand touched his shoulder. He whirled around and came face to face with Renn. "I'm sorry…" she whispered, her eyes filled with sorrow and pity. She sat down next to Eragon and touched his forehead. "Eragon, sweetheart, I'm a friend. Let me help you?" The boy's eyes flicked from her to Murtagh, before he nodded resignedly.

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Renn worked on the numerous slashes covering the young Rider's thin frame, pity strengthening her resolve. How could someone do this to another human being? Although, he looked more elf than human, when she thought about it. She assumed that was the difference between being trained by the King and trained by the elves. His eyes never left her face, they were blurred with confusion and suspicion. Lillian and Murtagh hovered behind her, both anxious.

Suddenly the door flew open. "How dare you come in here?" An enraged, dangerously quiet voice spat from the opening. The three of them spun round, and instantly Murtagh launched himself at Galbatorix. Of course, he got within a foot and was thrown back by the protective barrier the King kept around himself. He went sprawling to the floor at the King's feet. "You promised!" he shouted, fuelled by rage. "You promised when I said I'd serve you! You said you wouldn't hurt him!" Murtagh's eyes flashed with fury, but Galbatorix just glared at him, before kicking him cruelly in the stomach. The younger man gasped in pain and Renn jumped to her feet. "Don't do that! He's just protecting his little brother, just as I would for Lily!"

The King looked at her strangely, as if he hadn't realised who she was or why she was there. Tears welled up in her eyes. "You don't care do you? Do you even recognise me? I wouldn't be surprised if you didn't, you've hardly spoken to me in the eighteen years I've lived here!" She pulled Lillian into a fierce hug, and the little girl looked shocked at her sister's outburst. Renn willed the tears to go away. She stared into her father's eyes, trying to find some emotion. Nothing. She laughed hollowly.

When the King spoke, his voice was calm and even. Had he acknowledged what she'd said at all? "Renn, Lillian, get out. Now." Deciding it was best not to argue, Renn steered her sister towards the door, hissing, "Oh look, Lil, he remembers our names." The sarcasm in her voice evidently went completely unnoticed. She shook her head. The King clicked his fingers and several guards appeared, blocking their exit. "Take the boy to the dungeon."

Eragon cried out as he was hauled to his feet and forced out of the door. "And you…" he rounded on Murtagh. "Stay here. I'll deal with you later…" Renn shoved Lillian out of the door, ignoring her protests and her cry of, "Murtagh!"

They hurried up the corridor, followed by their father. "Renn…will Murtagh be alright?" Renn ignored Lillian and continued to force her up the corridor. Galbatorix disappeared up a set of stairs, evidently on his way to his tower, and Renn collapsed against the wall, shaking. Lillian bit her lip. "When's Aaran coming back?" she murmured in a small voice. "He'll help sort out this mess…"

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There. All done. I felt so mean writing all that. Poor Eragon. Don't worry, I don't think that will happen again…ever. Galbatorix had to vent his anger on someone didn't he? Although I imagine that would be the king's reaction if Eragon ever got caought in CP's books, he's not much of a mercy person.

Eragon: I hate you.

Me: I know, I'm sorry…

I switched to Renn's pov in this chapter, even though I wasn't really intending to. I thought it might make a change. She's a healer, by the way. Better than Murtagh at healing spells, hence why she was called to help. And yes, Eragon is terrified of his older brother. I can't understand why….don't worry, next chapter, Lily sorts him out. Reviews are welcome!


	4. Chapter 4

Children of the Forsworn

Chapter four! Woo! Okay, you all know how this works by now…review responses first, yada yada…

**13BlacKAnGELs**good question…you will find out in this chapter…I like angst…muahaha

**boomeantalist:** thank you, don't we all!!! I update quite often, so hopefully this is soon enough for you. I hate waiting for stories myself…

**jimmy-barnes-13:** Thanks! Don't worry, Eragon gets it a little better in this chapter. Only a little bit though…

**zenna:** thanks…I know how hard it is to get OC characters right…I'm glad mine are ok…because there's a couple more on the way.

**kaylen:** thank you, I know what you mean about Eragon and Murtagh!!! I don't like writing torture, but it was indeed necessary. I had to give Lillian a real reason to hate her father!

Okay, that's done…A quick point…Lillian, although she's only twelve, is very important. We've seen she's intelligent, we'll find out just how intelligent this chapter…if you think I have made her too old in the way she thinks, let me know. Oh, and there will be some brotherly mushyness in this chapter…Eragon had to forgive Murtagh at some point…

Disclaimer: Everything except the plot belongs to CP. XD

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Eragon sat up against the cold stone wall of the dungeon, hugging his knees against his chest, shivering, and contemplating the incredible unfairness of life. He'd tried his very best, and it wasn't good enough. For the Gods' sake, he was only a teenager! What could he possibly be expected to achieve? It had been a lonely few days, punctuated only by hazy murmurings in his mind. He had little doubt it was Saphira trying to contact him, but something was blocking their line of communication, and he was too drained to put much effort into working it out. He hadn't seen or heard from Saphira since his capture, and the loss of contact was making him feel lost and alone.

He had counted the bricks in the wall several times, and had watched his bruises change colour. Luckily, the King had not been down to see him, but the total silence was agonising, each tiny drip from a leak in the far corner sounding deafeningly loud. He had refused food of any kind, simply because he didn't trust what was in it, having had bad experiences in the past.

A clanging noise reverberated in the tiny room, and he instantly snapped his head up. The door opened a tiny crack and a dazzlingly bright light filled the cell, but the hope of escape flickered and died as he remembered that both his wrists were chained to the wall. Someone small slipped through, silhouetted against the yellowy light. He hid his face in his arms, his eyes hurting from the intense light. Then it was gone, and once again the only thing stopping the room from being pitch black were the gloomy bluey coloured torches up above him. Fearing who the newcomer might be, he kept his head buried in his arms, a stark reminder of how _childlike_ instinct could make you.

He felt a hand on his knee and he shivered involuntarily. A cool, light voice murmured, "Hey…I'm not going to hurt you…" He glanced up, surprised how young the voice sounded. Shock filtered slowly through him as he stared into a pair of wide, pale blue eyes framed by shiny, dark blonde hair. Their owner was slim and small, not yet a teenager, by the looks of it. She wore a black sparring outfit that was tailored for her, and she had an air of depth about her that seemed to radiate intelligence and sense beyond her years. She smiled nervously under his scrutiny and sat back on her haunches, bouncing on her feet. "Hello Eragon. I would have come to see you sooner, but I couldn't figure out how to sneak in. I never thought of drugging the prison guards. I think they assumed I wasn't a threat to them…lets face it, I'm twelve years old, how much damage can I do?"

Eragon absorbed this information, before whispering in a voice hoarse from disuse, "Who are you?" He mentally kicked himself. What a useless, cliché thing to say. She sighed. "Lillian. Or Lily, if you prefer…but I suppose, the more informative thing to say…I'm the King's youngest daughter." Eragon flinched at the mention of Galbatorix, and Lillian visibly recoiled. "I'm sorry…" she stammered. "I didn't mean to –"

"It's ok." He murmured, cutting her off. He unconsciously rubbed his wrist; the heavy chains were cutting into the skin. A flicker of pity ran across the girl's face. After a few moments of uncomfortable silence, Eragon muttered, "So what do you want?" He had to admit it, Lillian intrigued him. She seemed elegant, but at the same time mischievous, with a slight sparkle in her cool blue eyes.

"Well, I wanted to see you, because I was the one who found you after you…after the Ra'zac brought you in. I feel just a little responsible for your wellbeing I suppose." Eragon marvelled. No normal twelve year old would have said that…she was extremely well educated. "But also…" the little girl paused, an expression of childlike anxiety crossing her face, making her look closer to her age, which was a relief, to say the least. "I have to give you a message. It's about Saphira…your brother thought you needed to know."

"I don't care what he has to say." Eragon spat, hurt and grief flooding him. Lillian frowned and stood up, balling her hands into fists. "You condemn him too quickly." She said, anger flashing in her eyes. "You are the person he cares most about in the whole world, he did everything he could to keep you away from this place. You saw how mad he was when he found you, do you have any idea how much he got punished for that? For caring about you? He's only trying to help…and you pushed him away. That hurt him more than anything my wretched father did to him! Give him a damned chance!" She broke off, glaring.

Eragon was more than a little surprised at the outburst. Her voice had gotten louder and louder, and now she stood in front of him, her arms crossed over her chest. Her expression softened and she let her arms drop onto his knees as she crouched again. "Look, I know you're going to find it hard to trust people, especially now…but, for goodness sake, he's your brother. You're both still young, like me. You're all he has... and let's face it, if we children don't look out for each other, who will?"

Eragon lowered his eyes, realising that she spoke the truth. "You are too clever for your own good." She smiled slightly, as if remembering some sort of private joke. "Okay…" he let his breath out in a long hiss. "What's this message?" Lillian glanced at the door, and grinned slightly. "He can tell you himself." He followed her gaze and sucked in his breath. His older brother leant against the doorframe, arms folded, looking decidedly uncomfortable. Lillian poked him as she walked past. "How long have you been there?"

"All of about six seconds…" She shook her head and slid through the door, pulling it almost closed behind her. Eragon hugged his knees even closer to his chest as he stared at Murtagh through wide brown eyes. The older boy blew his hair out of his face. "You really don't trust me, do you?"

"Give me one good reason why I should." Eragon replied, his voice shaking slightly. Murtagh looked as though he was going to say something scathing, but evidently thought better of it. The younger boy shivered, the unholy temperature of the dungeon getting to him.

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Murtagh shifted on his feet as his little brother shook from the cold. He took a step closer, but the sharp look Eragon threw him stopped him in his tracks. He shook himself; this was stupid... he took a few more steps so he was right in front of Eragon and stared down at him. He looked so little and vulnerable, hunched up like that, covered in bruises, the scar on his face a stark red in contrast to the pale skin. He crouched in front of him so they were at the same level, and Eragon's questioning gaze bore into him.

"I'm sorry. For everything. I never wanted to leave you, you were a good friend to me…but…but…I can't think of anything to say, this is harder than I anticipated…I tried to keep you away from here, I'd rather die than have you suffer my fate." He stopped, unable to continue. The look on his younger brother's face was unreadable, and he sighed. "I'm not handling this very well, am I? Look…I know I haven't been a great big brother to you, hell, I haven't had the chance…but if you can't accept me as a brother, at least let me be your friend. Like Lily said…someone has to look out for us."

Eragon bit his lip, and, to Murtagh's intense surprise, he flung his arms around the older boy's neck. "I never wanted to believe you had died. I also never wanted to believe you were evil…Murtagh, you'll always be my friend, and you'll always be my brother..." Murtagh smiled weakly. He grasped his little brother's arm and broke the chains around his wrists with a soft, "_jierda_." He let go and let the older boy pull him to his feet.

The dark-haired boy frowned. "Gods you're skinny. I assume you haven't been eating?" Eragon shook his head miserably, and Murtagh wrapped his arms around the younger boy's skinny frame. "Stupid boy. I'll get you something."

Murtagh released him and grinned. "I also wanted to tell you why you can't contact Saphira. I can't contact Thorn either. There's a wall of magic around the palace itself, preventing communication. It's also the reason we couldn't scry each other when I was first brought here. I felt you trying to scry me…but it never worked, did it? The dragon caves are outside the barrier, evidently. Saphira's been going frantic. Thorn calmed her down, as soon as she stopped trying to bite his head off. Literally." Eragon smiled weakly.

Murtagh stopped his chatting and looked Eragon up and down, frowning. "He beat you pretty thoroughly didn't he?" Anger pulsed through him as Eragon shrugged slightly, averting his eyes. "Come on." The taller boy continued. "I'm going to take you to my room, before you freeze to death, and get you something to eat."

"Won't the King be angry?"  
"Do I look as though I care? What more can he do to me? I'll do what I like, I live here too." He propelled Eragon through the door, where Lillian was waiting for them. she stood next to two sleeping guards, a triumphant smile on her face. "Guess my drug worked! They'll think twice before accepting wine from cute little girls again!"

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Aaran rode through the palace gates on his horse, Eden, followed by the usual and necessary, albeit rather irritating, armed guard. Next to him sat his best friend, Torket. The thin seventeen-year-old had grown up in the palace with the twins, the son of one of the kitchen servants and the Dragon Rider Kithrim, although only the King, Aaran, Renn, Murtagh and Lillian knew this. Kithrim had indeed been one of the Forsworn, albeit rather unwillingly. He'd been blackmailed by Morzan, who had threatened to murder the man's young apprentice. Little had Kithrim known that said apprentice had already pledged himself to Galbatorix, and was thus in no danger at all.

Needless to say, he hadn't lasted very long; he'd been the first to die. Aaran believed he'd killed himself after learning of his apprentice's betrayal, but it had never been proved either way. Torket had never held a grudge against Morzan, or indeed his son. He was quiet and calculating, gentle when it was needed, and fiercely determined. Thin and gaunt, he resembled some sort of ghost, with high cheekbones and pale, almost translucent skin. His eyes were a striking electric blue, and his hair was white blonde. He was a lot like Aaran in many respects, they neither of them had the patience for idle chatter, and one was more likely to see them reading or writing than socialising.

They were fiercely loyal to each other, and indeed to Renn, when she was around. The twins themselves had always been close, but since the age of about thirteen, had realised their different interests and separated, choosing to behave more like close friends than brother and sister.

Aaran shook himself out of his thoughts and grinned at the small shape in the door, waving frantically. Lillian. He dismounted and she threw herself at him. "Aaran! You've been gone aaaages!" He smiled at her childish greeting, before he noticed her somewhat sombre expression. "Something's wrong." he murmured. "I can tell."

"Well…not wrong as such, at least, not anymore…so much has happened since you left! Hello Torkat." She added, waving at the taller boy. Aaran raised a questioning eyebrow.

"Murtagh got back, and within three days the Ra'zac brought Eragon in, you know, his little brother? Murtagh got mad because father got, well, angry, like he does…and now they're both living in his room…and…and, that's it I guess." She said, without taking a breath.

Aaran whistled, letting Lillian's babble sink in. Torket grasped his shoulder. "Why do we miss important stuff like this?" He muttered, and Aaran shrugged, before turning back to his little sister. "So much for thinking father had got better." She shook her head. "Come on, Aaran, we both knew he wasn't going to change…he's been the same for my lifetime, your lifetime, and probably before then. I hate being related to him…" she finished, scowling. "Everyone judges me on who he is, just like they do with you, Renn and Murtagh. Torket, you're lucky no-one knows who your father was."

"Even if they did," The blonde boy said, "It wouldn't be so bad."

"Hello Aaran, Torket!" Another voice called from the doorway. Renn stepped outside and glanced at the cloudy sky. "It had better not rain again…" she said dreamily. Aaran shook his head, and embraced his twin, smiling. Her mind was elsewhere, as usual, although he had to admit, the girl could be relied upon to keep her cool and use her head when the situation called for it. Renn was closely followed by two more figures, one of which he recognised. He nodded. "Murtagh."

The dark haired boy nodded back. "You must be Eragon." Aaran assumed, turning to the other boy, who was smaller, and had lighter hair, and had a somewhat fragile, elf-like appearance. He looked tired and pale as he nodded. Lillian grinned at Eragon and introduced her older brother and his friend. Aaran whistled as he looked the younger boy up and down, taking in the bruises and cuts, his eyes finally resting on a diagonal scar across his face. "Ouch." Eragon coloured slightly, and Aaran shook his head. Lillian was right, he thought. Galbatorix hadn't changed.

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Well, that's it for this chapter. I don't like it very much, I have to admit, it seems a bit rushed I suppose…ah well. Aaaannnnd…MORE BACKGROUND!! this time on ANOTHER new OC. I like them. Now there are 6 'children' in the story. Am debating whether to add a seventh…or is it a bit cliché? Any thoughts? Comments would be appreciated, sorry the update took a while, my caring and wonderful father has discovered the joys of _the internet_ and thus won't leave it alone…


	5. Chapter 5

Children of the Forsworn

Okay! Chapter 5 everybody! REVIEW RESPONSES: (woo this gets bigger every time!)

**Kiwikiss:** Doi! (slaps head) Knew there was something I was going to miss… Have gone back and edited a couple of lines if you want to go and find them…thanks for the tip! Oh, and I did realise you reviewed chapter 3, not 4, but 4 was already up, so I had to reply in chapter 5. Hope you don't mind…

**jimmy-barnes-13: **thanks! I admit, writing boy OC are easier than girls, but I've tried to make the two girls un-Mary-Sueish (although Lillian can't really be a Mary-Sue…she's only twelve…and I like that you like my vague attempts at humour.)

**LoNni: **thank you, I think it's sweet too. I don't mind slash myself, but everyone is entitled to their own opinion :)

**Ingu:** thank you! (it is going somewhere, I swear…)

**Dominic:** well, you're getting there at least…thanks! ;)

Well, you have to take this chapter with a pinch of salt. It's a little angsty to start with, Eragon is fretting over no-one giving a damn about where he is, and a confrontation with the King doesn't help. (this means he's is horrible to him…not gruesome or anything, its more intimidation than anything else…) Lillian shouts at Galbatorix, who shouts back, and Renn makes a decision. Eragon contemplates and adjusts to the castle and his new 'lifestyle'. Still want to read it?

Disclaimer: I own nothing. CP does, unfortunately.

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Eragon stared moodily out of Murtagh's bedroom window, desperately wanting to talk to Saphira. His older brother had managed to persuade Galbatorix to give him a little more freedom, but he still wasn't allowed outside the magical barrier. Apparently it stopped them all from running away, as well. He'd tried. Twice, much to his new friend Lillian's amusement. He'd noticed that, however hard he tried, he couldn't perform magic. He'd seen Murtagh use magic, and Aaran, and on one occasion, Renn, when she'd healed him. He remembered the words, but could do nothing with them. He presumed that somehow the King was blocking his magic, and to be honest, he was hardly surprised.

He'd gotten to know all three of the King's children over the past week. Lillian. She was a marvel. One minute she would be laughing and happy, the next minute she'd be shrieking the palace down for one reason or another. And Renn…she was reserved and gentle, but often had a look about her that said 'I'm not here…' It was as though she lived in the sanctuary of her own mind and only came out when it was absolutely necessary. Aaran, well he was a lot like Murtagh, but not quite as moody. Murtagh was more likely to blow up in your face if you said something wrong. Eragon grinned at the thought, his brother was like an armed bomb.

It had been nice getting to know Murtagh himself as well. As his little brother, he'd found out a lot more about him than when they'd just been friends. He'd had to grow up very quickly after their mother died. He'd also suffered at the hands of Galbatorix _before_ he ran away, something else he hadn't told Eragon.

He suddenly jumped as a noise downstairs somewhere brought him back to the present and out of his thoughts. He was always nervous, since he had been brought here. The slight smile slid off his face as he remembered his situation. He'd been stuck here almost two weeks, and hadn't heard hide nor hair from anyone from the Varden, not even the magicians. He was determined not to be too upset, but he often wondered if they'd forgotten him completely. Or if not, did they miss him? Or did they just miss their Rider?

He folded his arms and frowned. He was by himself, which was unusual; normally either Murtagh or Lillian was with him, and sometimes Renn or Aaran. But Murtagh was sparring with Aaran's friend, Torket, and although they'd invited him to come with them, he'd refused, mainly because he was rebelling against the system and staying in his room. Well, Murtagh's room. Lillian was probably outside, playing one of her pretend games, or playing hide and seek with the two or three toddlers whose parents worked in the palace, and Renn…well, she could be anywhere.

He rolled over and lay face down on the bed, flicking through the piles of scrolls and books on the pillow, trying to find something interesting to read.

Ten minutes later he was absorbed in a book written about some major battle years ago. It was interesting, although it forgot to mention when exactly when said battle occurred, so it may have been fictitious. Eragon wasn't educated enough to be able to tell the difference, and frankly, he didn't care.

"Enjoying yourself?" Eragon jumped and nearly rolled off the bed in fright. The icy voice was less than a centimetre from his ear. He cried out and scrambled off the bed, backing into a corner and hissing through his teeth. "Leave me alone." He spat.

The King grinned lopsidedly, and proceeded to stalk towards him. "Alone is very much what you are at this point. It has been very difficult to get you on your own. Don't worry. I just want to chat." Eragon realised too late he'd been stupid to get into a corner, and was now effectively trapped. He glared at Galbatorix through furious brown eyes. He tried to dart past him, but the King grasped his loose black shirt he'd borrowed from his brother and lifted him almost off his feet, slamming him into the wall. He cried out, amazed that the man had that much strength.

"You listen to me, boy. Your brother rebelled too, when he first came here. He learned the hard way that it was better just to do as I say." Eragon spat in his face and tried to twist out of his grip. The King's other hand came out of nowhere and seized his hair, twisting it painfully, and wrenching his head back. Even though he was on the balls of his feet, the King was still a head taller than him, so he was forced to look straight into his face. He struggled desperately, his hands flat against the older man's chest, trying to push him away, the intense pain from his hair being pulled making his eyes water.

"Don't you _ever_ do that again." Galbatorix gave Eragon's hair another painful wrench. "Tell me you won't ever do that again." He slammed the youngster's head into the wall and he moaned, biting his lip. "Tell me." His grip tightened on Eragon's hair and he cried, "Okay! I won't do that again!" The King let go and the brunette staggered, clutching his head, which hurt considerably.

"Good boy." Galbatorix grinned, patronising him. Eragon coloured and unconsciously wrapped his arms around himself. By the Gods, the King knew how to intimidate people…

The older Rider grasped his chin and forced him to look at him again, pinning him to the wall with his other hand by both wrists. Eragon half-heartedly struggled, but gave up quite quickly. "You're learning already." The King traced the scar on his face with his little finger and Eragon winced; the cut still smarted when touched. "Don't…" he said without meaning to. He cursed himself for acting so childish.

"Then I suggest you don't anger me any more than you already have." He suddenly forced Eragon's right hand up, and it twisted painfully. The youngster hissed in pain. Galbatorix ignored him and scrutinised his palm. He was still restrained against the wall, unable to move.

"Leave him _alone_!" A shrill but angry voice resounded from the doorway.

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Lillian glared at her father and her helpless friend. "Let him go!" She shouted, her little hands balled into fists.

Seemingly startled, the King released Eragon, and the sixteen-year-old clutched his arm and leant against the wall, glowering at Galbatorix. Her father walked slowly across the room and stopped in front of her. "Are you telling me what to do, child?"

"Yes!" she shrieked, her fury making her reckless. "You're so horrible! You don't have to be such a bully! I should have happy memories of you, but I don't! The only memories I have are bad ones! Why are you so nasty?" The King blinked and shouted, "Don't speak to me like that, you ungrateful brat!"

"Ungrateful? What have I got to be grateful for?"

"Your life, you stupid child. If I'd had my way, both you and your sister Renn would never have been _born_. I don't have time for girls!" Lillian recoiled as if she'd been slapped, and Eragon growled angrily, hissing, "You can't say things like that! She's just a child!"

"You'll shut up, or I'll remove your spiteful little tongue from your mouth!" Galbatorix snarled, rounding on Eragon, who shut up rather quickly.

Lillian lost it. "I hate you! I wish you weren't my father! I wish you were dead, then I wouldn't have to live like this, hemmed in and kept out of sight! I hate you!" The King raised a hand and backhanded her viciously across the face. The little girl went sprawling to the floor, shocked. She put her hand to her face, and when she looked at it, she saw red. His ring had cut into her cheek, and blood was spilling from the deep hole.

She panicked and screamed, but her father had already disappeared. Her eyes were screwed up and she let tears fall down her face. He'd _never_ hit her before…it stung like _mad_. She howled again, more from shock than anything else.

Then, a pair of arms encircled her and rocked her gently. Eragon knelt beside her, murmuring in her ear, "Shh, it's alright, it's okay… I'm here. Come on, calm down, you're alright…" She flung her arms around the teenager's neck, finding comfort in the warmth of his body. he pulled her onto his lap and rocked her the way her mother used to when she was a little girl.

She laid her head on his shoulder and took a shuddering breath, relaxing slightly. She still shook a little and her cheek still stung, but she was definitely feeling better.

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Renn burst into Murtagh's room, having only been down the hall in his library when she'd heard her little sister scream. Eragon was comforting Lillian, holding her gently and stroking her hair, and she was shaking. _There was blood on her face_.

"Lily!" She shrieked, falling to her knees beside her baby sister. "What happened?" Lillian glanced at Renn and burst into a fresh wave of tears. Eragon squeezed her and murmured, "Hey…shh…it's alright…" The teenager looked up at her and muttered, "She got angry with Galbatorix because he came after me, and he hit her. I think she's been hurt more by what he said than what he did though. He told her that he'd rather she was dead…or something like that anyway…" Lillian howled again, her hands clutching the folds of Eragon's shirt.

Renn was furious. How dare he strike his own child? After showing no interest in her for twelve years? "I want to leave." Lillian murmured in a small voice. Renn glanced down at her. Her blue eyes were large and sincere, and strands of her hair stuck to her face where she'd been crying. Renn bit her lip and turned to Eragon. "Since Murtagh ran away, the King has strengthened the wards around this place. We won't get five paces from the gate without him noticing. But I think we can do something about that." Eragon, who had been watching Lillian, turned to face her. "You're going to run away? Just like that?"

Renn paused, ideas flowing through her mind the way they always did when she had set her heart on something. "I've wanted to leave for so long, I've never actually considered it. But he won't get away with hurting my sister. I believe we could do it." She paused, staring him straight in the eye. "All of us."

Eragon snorted. "He won't let me get past the kitchens, and what about my brother? Galbatorix can make him do whatever he wants, and he's hardly going to release him because you ask, is he?" Amusement was laced in his voice as he added, "you three might…_might_ get out…but you'd be hunted, just like Murtagh was. And me."

"I'm not leaving without Eragon and Murtagh!" Lillian cried suddenly, startling them both. She wasn't crying any more, she looked fierce. "Look," Renn said, massaging her temples, "None of this is going anywhere yet. Give me a few days to think, alright? It probably isn't possible. Don't hope for anything. I mean it Lily, this has a very small chance of working." Lillian pouted and buried her face back in Eragon's shirt petulantly. The boy laughed at her.

Renn turned back to him, ignoring Lillian. "I'm by far the best of all of us at magical theory, if anyone can find a way out of this mess, it's me. Unfortunately the wards aren't our biggest problem."  
"Murtagh is." Eragon finished, biting his lip. "Come on, Renn, it's not possible. The ancient language binds him, and even if we could reverse that, which we can't, Galbatorix has his back up plan. His name. With one whispered word he can take control of my brother's mind."

"Nothing is impossible…" Renn murmured, the familiar dreamy look sliding onto her face. Eragon poked her arm. "Oh no, don't go off into your little dream world, this is serious!" She just smiled and stood up. "I can do this…" she whispered, leaving Eragon staring after her.

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Eragon slapped his forehead. "Why does she _do _that?"

"You've only had to put up with her for two weeks. Imagine how I feel." Lillian muttered, glaring after Renn. Eragon smiled. It was getting easier to smile and laugh, especially when his brother or his friends were around. When he'd first come here he thought he'd never smile again, but life here was more straightforward than he'd originally anticipated. He'd only _seen_ the King twice, and whilst it was unpleasant, he found that he could relax when Murtagh, Aaran or Renn, or even Lillian were around. He still hated being here and not back with Nasuada, Arya, Roran and the Varden, but it was not so unbearable.

"Do you think she's serious?" Lillian murmured softly. "I have no idea." The brunette replied, still staring out of the door. "Is she normally?"

"Yes. She gets these little projects into her head."  
"Can she do it?"  
"Like she said, if anyone can, it's Renn." She's amazing." Eragon smiled at the blatant adoration in the girl's voice. "Do we tell the others?" She asked him, gazing up at him with round, questioning eyes. He frowned. "No. Not yet, anyway, if Renn wants them to know, she'll tell them. Besides, they'll only be disappointed if she can't do it."

"I will be disappointed. But I won't go if you can't." With that, she took off down the corridor, leaving Eragon on his own again. He shook himself, wondering for a second if she meant 'you' as in him, or 'you' as in him and Murtagh, before softly closing the bedroom door, cursing the fact that Galbatorix was still blocking his magic, preventing him from locking the door.

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Hmm. Not happy with this chapter. I tried to show Eragon coming to terms with his sort-of-imprisonment, but it came out a bit 'I'm ok with being here'

Eragon: which I'm not.

Me: Yes, well…give me a break. Would you rather I left you on your own?

Eragon:…

Moving swiftly on…reviews? comments? Don't worry that I'm rushing into any sort of escape plan, there's a chapter or two more before Renn gets an idea. Whether it works or not, well, you'll have to find out…

Oh, and I just reread it…I think Lillian _likes_ our Eragon…this wasn't exactly planned, but I'm leaving it in. It may go somewhere, obviously when she's grown up a little, it may not. Votes either way, anyone? Good idea, bad idea? I VALUE YOUR OPINIONS!!!

Next chapter: (hope you're impressed, never given hints before) Eragon is finally allowed to see Saphira, and can re-open his mind connection, so we'll be seeing (or hearing) more from Saphira as of next chapter. Renn schemes. Some more brotherly mush (just for LoNni) And Lillian watches Eragon spar with Murtagh.


	6. Chapter 6

Okay. Where to start? Chapter 6 is on its way, I swear. I've been in Italy, and I got like, half an hours notice, so I didn't warn you all! Very sorry and apologetic for not updating.

I'm halfway through Chapter 6 right now, so I'll try to make it as quick as possible. I haven't abandoned this fic, I promise!

And…er…some of the plot bunnies have run away while I've been away, because one of my muses followed me to Florence and stuck ideas for other stories in my head, making me forget this one. I still know where its going, though, I just need to round up the runaway bunnies and I'll be fine.

I will update soon ;)


	7. Chapter 7

Children of the Forsworn

Okay guys, I'm very sorry how long it's taken me to post, but I've been in Italy! (because I am ace. Me and my friends went over there to SHOP.) So, sorry, but I'm back! Updates will come less often now, because I've started the prep for my art final exam…and its taking all my time.

THANK YOU for all the fabby reviews, and thanks especially for the constructive criticism. Don't feel mean typing it, it's actually really helpful.

**LoNni**: haha you sound hyper. Like me. I like that. (wink) The mushyness in this chapter is more brotherliness, I guess. Wheeeee!

**jimmy-barnes-13**: thanks, glad you liked the hints. If I drop hints, its good, because it means I know where the hell I'm going with this story….

**Sybelle Annya**: Yes, she is young, but she'll grow up. I've had people saying they'd be cute, so they may get together.

**Ingu:** Yes, they most definitely would! I naturally dislike what I write, I think most authors do, but I'll stop whining if you like (winks)

**Mariana:** Yes. Yes I do. And THANK YOU for reviewing!

**Kaylen**: Yes, when I get into something, I really get into it…oh, and THANK YOU. Finally something I can work on (snigger). Hmmm…so tell me, how do you think I can make evil king better? Message me please, I value your opinion!!! Dense as in stupid? (just made me laugh) :D And thanks for the comments on the other characters too, well chuffed!

**Kiwikiss:** Glad you approve, they were especially for you after all. ;) Actually you are sooo right about the sparring! He is going to be "super speedy". It's funny how Murtagh reacts to this, because he missed it on the burning plains, cos Eragon was tired. Muahaha. See… (Rant time) Paolini made Eragon appear quite weak then, and I was like O.O!!! So…I thought it would be funny to have them spar so Eragon can show off. Wow. Long reply.

1**3BlacKAnGELs**: aha! The prophecy! Yet another good reason why they should get together. Yes, good, I like…

**NigerLapis:** Italy was lovely, thanks, and yes, a source of abundance for inspiration!

**Fire Dancer: **Erm…you're American, right? I'm English, explaining the spelling 'errors'. I do upload on Word…the English version, so 'recognise' is recognised (ha) Please don't judge me like that; I was in a spelling group of my own in Primary school… (geek). But, yes. The rest of the criticism was helpful, though. Thanks.

**Mystical Hanyou:** Thanks! You'll have to keep reading to find out!

**Black Imperial:** Thank you, and I swear I didn't pinch it! O.O.

**Dragon Rider Of Alagaesia:** Thanks for reviewing ;). I always thought Paoulini made him too old.

**Murtagh Rocks:** Here's your update ;)

Dear God that took a long time. That can only be a good thing…you guys are so cool. It's taken up a whole page on Word…I'm going to have to type another page of story now….I forgot who asked for more of Aaran…how bad of me. Well whoever it was, there will be some these next few chapters. I will try to keep it even… :S

**Disclaimer:** I own nothing. HA. Belongs to CP etc.

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Aaran leant against the door to Murtagh's bedroom, waiting for the two sons of Morzan to come out. Eragon had been getting more and more depressed due to being separated from Saphira, so they were going to try and sneak him out to the Dragon-hold. It wasn't too difficult, it wasn't out of range of the main wards, which extended the length and breadth of the palace grounds, Aaran knew from rather painful experience that _those_ wards were damn near impenetrable. You had to have special permission from the King, so he could give you a password or something like that, he wasn't sure of the particulars. All he knew was that the most trusted guards could come and go as they pleased, and sometimes he and Torket would go with them when they went riding. Nothing seemed amiss when they had left, but when the raven haired boy had tried it alone, he'd been thrown back several feet and broken his collarbone. He'd not tried it again in a hurry.

To be perfectly honest, he wasn't all that bothered about just how the wards worked. He was somewhat content with his life, even if it was dull. His mother and father ignored him; he and Torket were free to do as they pleased, as long as they didn't disturb anyone important.

He shook himself as Murtagh came through the door, leading a confused and tired-looking Eragon by his arm. "What you doing waking me up this early?" The younger boy whined, looking cross. Aaran turned to Murtagh, frowning. "You didn't explain it to him? What took you so long?"

"Waking the daft idiot up. He isn't usually this lazy"

"He isn't _usually_ this sleep-deprived." Eragon growled irritably, punching his older brother in the arm. Aaran grinned briefly and said, "The two of us are taking you to see Saphira, since you seem to be missing her. A lot." Eragon looked elated, then confused. "Why now though? Why not tomorrow morning, when I'm awake?"

"Don't be dumb." Put in Murtagh, thumping the back of his little brother's head with the heel of his hand. "You are hardly going to be _allowed_ to see her. The guards do their rounds less frequently this late at night, there's less chance we'll be discovered."

"_Ow_…" Eragon muttered, rubbing his head, glaring at Murtagh. Aaran smiled again. "Eragon, the wards around the palace grounds are evil, but there are less powerful ones surrounding the palace itself. The problem is, patrols scour the grounds thoroughly almost constantly. You can't move without being seen."

"So how do we get to the Dragon-hold then?" Eragon asked, clearly still confused. Murtagh grinned. "That's the good part. When I was brought back here and Thorn hatched, Galbatorix had us separated and trained apart. I don't understand quite why, I think it was because he thought Thorn would distract me. He _was_ very cute. Anyway, my magic wasn't so restricted then, because I wasn't powerful enough to be a threat to him, so I made a sort of tunnel."

"How original."

"Shut up, it was the best thing I could think of. It had to go from the kitchen, as I couldn't manipulate stone yet, I didn't know the word, and the kitchen has a dirt floor."

"Very hygienic."

"Will you shut up?"

"Sorry."

"You should be, you interrupting, sarcastic idiot. Now _listen_. The tunnel starts behind the big cooker and is concealed…it leads to Thorn and Saphira. Because the wards are _above _ground, they are bypassed, see?"

"I think so. I am not sarcastic!"

"Yes you are." Murtagh sniffed. "Sarcasm is the lowest form of humour."  
"No it's not."

"Oh yes? Then what is?" the dark haired boy asked, raising his eyebrows. Eragon swept his feet out from underneath him with lightning speed. The oldest of the three crashed to the floor and Aaran burst out laughing, while at the same time trying to be quiet. It didn't work. "That. See? Lowest form of humour." Eragon grinned and stuck out his hand. Murtagh shook his head and was heaved to his feet. "You are being far too cheerful. I think I preferred you all moping and sad, it didn't hurt as much. I don't think I'll take you to see Saphira now."

The look of horror on Eragon's face made Aaran laugh even harder. He grasped the younger boy's shoulder. "He's joking. But seriously, can you two stop bickering? We have to get this done as quickly as possible."

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"Saphira!" Eragon cried gleefully, sprinting across the bone-littered floor of the Dragon-hold and throwing his arms around the blue dragon's huge neck. _Eragon! I've been so worried! _The joy in her voice was apparent, and Eragon knew he was probably grinning stupidly. _Hey…how come I can hear you?_

_You're outside the palace walls; Galbatorix has no control over your thoughts now._ Eragon grinned and gazed at her. _I've missed you…_

_I've missed you too little one._

"She's been going frantic." Murtagh muttered from behind him. Saphira turned a baleful eye on him. _I still don't trust him, Eragon. He's under the King's sway._

_I can't afford not to trust him Saphira, he's my brother, and the only thing between me and Galbatorix. Besides, Lillian would murder me if I turned against him._

_The King's daughter, Lillian? _At Eragon's questioning glance, she added, _Thorn filled me in._

_I see. Yes, that Lillian. She's very sweet. So's Renn, although she hasn't left her library in days…but that's normal for her. And that's Aaran._

_I know Aaran. He visits Shruikan. _

"He's here?" Eragon asked aloud, alarmed. Murtagh frowned. "Who is here?"

"Shruikan?"

"Yes…oh…he's no threat to us, brother, he hates the King too."

"He…does?" Eragon was confused for a moment, and then it clicked. "Oh, yeah, Shruikan is as much his slave as you are!"

"Thanks for reminding me." Murtagh grimaced, and the brunette bit his lip. "Sorry." The older boy shrugged. "It's not like _you're _going anywhere any time soon. The King will want to see you sooner or later. He may have left you alone for now but he'll summon you."

Eragon grimaced. Wonderful. He thought about Renn, locked in her library somewhere, searching for a way to get them out…to get _him_ out. He remembered being dragged here, expecting to find cold contempt. Instead, he'd found friends, friends who shared his predicament.

He'd never imagined the King to have had children…it was absurd, how could a man that twisted have feelings for another? _He's still just a man, Eragon._ The brunette boy jumped. After days of no contact, it was a little strange to be hearing Saphira in his head again. _Yes…I suppose. I just never thought him capable of love…_

_There's a fine line between love and lust, little one._ Eragon shrugged and turned t his brother. "How much time do we have?"

"Very little. Patrols will be out soon. Sorry, but at least now your link with her has been reformed, as it were; you should be able to keep it intact through the wards. It was severed by them the first time, but it shouldn't happen again. At least not in my experience." Eragon nodded. Murtagh moved off to talk quietly with Aaran, and the younger boy's eye was drawn to Shruikan. The huge black dragon was eyeing him back, gazing through one red eye, looking almost amused at his nervousness. Eragon quickly looked away, unnerved. He could hear Saphira's rumbling laughter in his head. _Don't be childish, Eragon._

_I'm sixteen years old, I'll be as childish as I like._ He thought back, irritated. Saphira continued to laugh, and, though still annoyed, he joined in. He was happy to be with her again.

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Murtagh watched his little brother converse silently with his dragon. He fought back a laugh when the younger boy flinched away from Shruikan's unblinking gaze. Aaran touched his shoulder. "Murtagh…" he motioned out the narrow window. Patrols of six guards were beginning to cross the wide courtyard, one of which was heading their way.

"Time to go." The dark haired boy called. Eragon looked irritated, but stood up and wrapped his arms around Saphira's neck. They were apparently talking to each other still…"No time, Eragon, we have to go!" Murtagh hissed, more urgently this time. With a sigh, his younger brother pulled away and ran over to where the two older boys were waiting. _See you, Thorn._ Murtagh shot at the ruby dragon. Thorn inclined his head gracefully, and the boy grinned, before following Aaran and Eragon into the dark, narrow hole.

He heard the dragons shifting themselves to cover up the small entrance as he shuffled through the crawl space. They'd have to clean the mud and dust off themselves before morning…

Ignoring the pain in his back caused from being bent at such an odd angle, he continued forward until the crawl space opened up into a wider tunnel. He could just about make out the forms of his brother and his friend just ahead, stood side by side. Eragon's eyes shone bright with eager, almost juvenile excitement, and Murtagh smiled. Aaran grabbed the youngest boy's arm and pulled him back. Murtagh watched the shadows swallow them up before following.

He didn't want to risk conjuring light this close to the wards, so his hands were out in front of him, feeling for the walls either side as he walked, relieving his back of its strenuous bending. It was a good job they hadn't made the whole tunnel the height of the crawl spaces at either end. The tightness of those was essential for secrecy, of course, but damn was it uncomfortable.

Crawl space number two caught him by surprise. It shouldn't have, but he'd been thinking too much, evidently. He cracked his head on the ceiling and let out a low curse. Crouching, he felt for the small hole in front of him. Finding it, he pushed his shoulders forward. He must have grown at least a little since he built the thing, his shoulders were awkwardly scraping the sides. Aaran and Eragon were skinny, they could get away with it, he thought to himself.

A hand reached out and pulled him into the gloomy half light of the deserted kitchen. He glanced into the grinning face of his brother. "Thanks." The younger boy whispered, smiling properly for the first time in ages. Murtagh grinned back. "Don't be too happy. Don't forget what I said. Galbatorix will call for you soon." Eragon sighed, but seemed to have resigned himself to the fact. "I was hardly going to get away with it for too much longer, I guess. I've been lucky, according to Lily."

"You get on well with her, don't you?"

"She's nice. Odd, but nice." Murtagh laughed and nodded. "Odd? Yes, I suppose." Aaran punched both boys' arms. "Watch it, that's my sister you're on about."

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A little short, but I want to switch time periods, and if I started the next bit it wouldn't be updated as quick. Again, sorry for the delay, hopefully they'll be quicker now! Comments?

Loves to you all xXx


	8. Chapter 8

Children of the Forsworn

Chapter Seven! I hope this one is up quicker than the last one…I know you guys had to wait a while! Ah well, at least a large time gap between chapters leaves lots of room for reviews XD. Oh, and I promised you sparring last time…it had to wait because I was tired. It will be here. XD.

**LoNnI: **Yes, that was especially for you ;) It was nice chatting to you by the way…I foresee several more interesting CP related conversations on their way…

**Dragon Rider Of Alagaesia:** No, no King…maybe this chapter…I'm glad you like it, and you sound as high as I feel…

**C.T.Eleczko: **Thank you. This soon enough?

**Mystical Hanyou: **Yes, I never imagined Shruikan evil. He's a dragon! ;)

**jimmy-barnes-13: **Yet another of my random 'shadow trying to be funny' moments…

**french-charlotte:** Thanks! You'll find out this chapter XD

**obsessed wiv everything:** thank you! Brill is a very complimentary word XD

**Black Imperial:** WOW that is a good idea! Thanks! Although, it'll be Renn he talks to if it happens. Watch this space; your idea is better than mine ;)

**Traitors Daughter: **Yay! Its Hayley!! Squee!

Thanks to everyone for putting up with me and my absence. I owe you guys! I'll send those of you who write yourselves a plot bunny or two. The rest of you can have muffins. Chocolate ones. I just watched Spirited Away, which is a good film…because I have strange taste. XD.

Disclaimer: Characters, places, names, dragons…all owned by Christopher Paoulini. I just use them…

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Lillian cheered loudly, swinging her legs as she perched on the low courtyard wall, watching her brother and Murtagh spar. Aaran was good, but Morzan's son was better; the harsh training imposed by Galbatorix showing. They parried and blocked one another, and she watched intently, trying to pick up the moves. She'd fight one of them later, and she was trying to see if either of them had anything new up their sleeves.

Someone tapped her shoulder. Without bothering to look up, she murmured, "Hello Eragon. You're up late." The boy just yawned in response and sat down next to her. "I'm fed up of this place." He growled. "It's creepy. I expected to be left to die in a dungeon, or forced to serve him…not…not this."

"That's not the way father does things. He's very clever; he'll try to sweet talk you into switching sides. After all, it's far more useful to have a willing servant than an unwilling slave."

"He knows I won't serve him willingly." Lillian looked up at him, tearing her eyes away from the two boys, who had flung their swords away and were now wrestling in the dirt. Eragon's chocolate eyes gazed down at her, but she held his gaze. "Still, what can he achieve by locking you up? At least allowing you to move around the castle gives you a sense of security. Like…I don't know, maybe like he trusts you or something? Maybe he wants to show you that life here isn't as bad as everyone makes out. Heck, I should know, right?"

Eragon slowly shook his head. "You scare me when you say stuff like that. Makes you seem so much older. Sometimes I get the feeling you're more intelligent than me…"

"That depends what you class as intelligence." She murmured, squeezing his hand reassuringly. "See, I was taught from a very young age everything about anything, but I'll never be as good as you at magic and stuff. You see? It all comes down to strengths and weaknesses." Eragon hugged her swiftly. "You always seem to know the right things to say." He let her go, but she didn't answer. She was too busy trying to stop herself from blushing.

"Speaking of strengths and weaknesses…" Lillian turned to see Murtagh leaning against the wall, breathing heavily and grinning. "Come on, brother, spar with me. You're well enough, right?" Eragon looked alarmed, then seemed to realise something. He smirked. "Alright. I'll beat you."

"That's confidant…" Murtagh smirked at Aaran's comment. Eragon smiled serenely. The older of the two brothers pushed himself off the wall. "Last time we fought, I seem to remember that I won…"

"The circumstances were different." Eragon murmured, his face darkening. Just as soon as the look appeared, it vanished again. "Besides, I was half dead already, you had it easy."

Lillian sat up in anticipation as Murtagh threw Eragon a sword, which the younger boy tested, passing it from hand to hand. Aaran leapt lightly onto the wall where he stood next to where she was sat. "This should be good." The girl grinned at him, before turning her attention back to the two boys on the courtyard.

Murtagh twirled his sword in his hand, eying Eragon, who stood still, brown eyes gazing into hazel as if sizing his older brother up. The older boy was evidently unnerved, and he swung at Eragon, seemingly more through irritation than anything else. The younger boy leapt to one side with lightning speed, and one-handedly blocked the blow with the shorter sword. Mutagh's sword, Zar'roc, glanced off the metal and missed its target. The dark haired boy spun round to face his brother. "That was fast…" Lillian heard him gasp. Eragon merely grinned at him.

The two began to spar in earnest. She gasped, riveted. At first, it was like a dance…they were so evenly matched. It _did_ seem as though Murtagh was tiring quicker, though. Eragon smiled and called, "Tired already?" His brother growled and lunged at him. The brunette laughed and jumped _over_ Murtagh to land perfectly behind him. Then he picked up speed, skipping about, his feet barely touching the floor as he rained blow after blow onto his brother. Murtagh looked stunned, he was barely holding Eragon off; he couldn't even think about his own offensive.

Lillian was amazed. The speed and agility, not to mention the swordsmanship of her young friend outclassed any human she'd ever seen sparring. The only time she'd seen this sort of sparring was long ago, when she'd witnessed a skirmish between an elf woman and several palace guards. She had been about five at the time, and the lady's skill and speed had amazed her. She knew Eragon had trained with elves, and his appearance carried many of their traits…but she had no idea he was so much like them…

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Murtagh was gasping for breath as he made block after block, sometimes barely lifting Zar'roc in time to fend off his brother. He couldn't help but realise that had Eragon been in good shape when they had fought on the Burning Plains, their positions would have been reversed, and he would have been the Varden's captive once again. Eragon hadn't been kidding when he'd said, simply, 'I'll beat you.'

This was ridiculous. He couldn't even form an offensive! He was tiring, Eragon had a lot of strength, now every time the two swords clashed, Murtagh's arm shook, jarring his shoulder. He was like an elf. He reminded Murtagh of Arya when she fought; there was grace, agility and power behind his little brother. Mixed in with the irritation and embarrassment at losing, there were little hints of another emotion, one that Murtagh knew he'd never felt before. Pride.

He was proud of his little brother. He grinned inwardly. It was nice having someone to be proud of. He'd always envied Aaran, because the younger boy had two sisters to look after. Part of him wished he'd grown up with Eragon. Would his life have been very different?

His lapse in concentration gave Eragon the final edge. Murtagh, whilst surprised to find a sword at his throat, couldn't help but grin at the elation and satisfaction showing on his brother's face. "Do you yield?" The younger boy panted. "Aye, I yield." Eragon lowered the sword, and Murtagh drew him into a rough one-armed hug, dropping Zar'roc to scrub at the brunette's hair. "Hey! Get off!" Eragon grumbled. "That was amazing, Eragon, I'm proud of you." He let go, and Eragon smiled.

There was a squeal of delight as the king's youngest daughter barrelled into the two of them, hugging them both and managing to get herself sandwiched between them, since Murtagh still had his arm around Eragon's shoulder. "That was so cool! I've never seen anyone fight like that!" She flung her arms around Eragon's waist, and Murtagh was amused to see a blush creeping onto his little brother's cheeks. He knew that Eragon had never been around girls and was evidently unsure how to react to affection, even if the girl was just a kid. "Lily, let him breathe." Aaran laughed, prising his little sister off.

Suddenly a voice made all four youngsters jump. "You, boy. Eragon." Murtagh stiffened, squeezing his brother's shoulder protectively as the younger boy paled. "The King wishes to see you."

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Eragon followed the black clad guard through the twisting corridors, feeling sick to the stomach for the first time in days. Lillian was right, the lack of action had lured him into a false sense of security; he hadn't expected to be called upon by the King at all. He'd almost forgotten how precarious his situation was; the only things dragging him back to reality had been fleeting thoughts and dreams about his cousin and his old friends. Quite quickly he'd attempted to push them out of his mind. Remembering them just reminded him that no-one had come to get him. Part of him had expected to get away quickly, but the more rational part of him knew that it was too difficult. He contented himself with the thought that they might at least be worried about him.

He looked down at himself. The chances are they wouldn't recognise him if they saw him now, although the slightly elfin appearance would soon give it away, perhaps. But he now wore black; clothes purloined from his older brother, and the scar Galbatorix had left on his face had given him the idea of growing his fringe. It now hung over his right eye, half concealing the rough, still healing scar covering the right hand side of his face. Personally, he thought it looked better than it had before, and the fact that it covered his scar was purely a bonus.

He was shaken out of his thoughts when he almost crashed into the stiff-backed guard in front of him. The smaller boy caught himself just in time, and took a few cautious steps back. He glanced up at the door in front of him a winced. Last time he'd been here he'd been tortured. His hand unconsciously brushed his scar, before letting the brown hair slide back over it.

The guard simply stared at him, stony faced. Eragon stared back, non-plussed. What, they wanted him to go in there voluntarily?

_Eragon! Don't just stand there like an idiot!_ Saphira's voice cut into his mind and he jumped. _What, you want me just to go in there? Alone? As in, by myself? Are you serious?_

_Well it looks as though that's what you'll have to do._

_You have got to be kidding. Is this some kind of 'is Eragon brave enough to go into a scary room with a psychotic, homicidal maniac sitting on a creepy throne' test?_ He heard Saphira's laughter in his head and said aloud, "I'm glad you find it funny." The guard gave him a funny look, and Eragon scowled. He supposed it must look odd, him standing there apparently talking to himself. With a sigh and a sudden burst of courage he shoved the door open and almost fell through it. It was lighter than he had thought.

Damn. Way to crush his fingers. Wincing, he rubbed his knuckles and walked slowly into the room, his heart rate quickening as his eyes strained to adjust to the sudden darkness. Holding back a curse, fingers throbbing, he closed the door behind him. Now it was even gloomier. Surely it wasn't this dark last time? Wait…was the King trying to scare him?

He took a few hesitant steps forward, his forehead wrinkled in a frown. He wasn't scared. He was _not _scared.

Scratch that, he was terrified. This guy was nuts, and he'd already attacked him twice. _Come on Eragon get a hold of yourself_, he scolded himself, scowling. He would have conjured a light, but his magic was still being blocked. He stopped a little way into the room, remaining silent, wondering if this was just a test or something.

"Your appearance pleases me. You look like your brother." Eragon nearly fell over in shock; the voice came from right behind him. It wasn't _that _dark, was it? He spun around, taking a few hasty steps back, away from the soft, lilting voice of the King. Galbatorix flooded the room with light, and Eragon swore, shielding his eyes from the sudden brightness. When he looked up, he instantly recognised the mad glint in the King's eyes. He wondered if it was a permanent thing.

"Guess what, Eragon?" He said in a low, spookily cheerful voice that still managed to hold a threat in it. When he didn't continue, the brunette decided it was probably best to play along with Galbatorix' mind games. He sighed. "What?" After a few seconds more silence, he rolled his eyes, scowling. "What, _ebrithil_?" He spat. This seemed to please Galbatorix, who stepped closer. Eragon involuntarily moved away. Forgive him for wanting there to be a good distance between them, he though sourly.

"I'm giving you your magic back." The pale boy was completely wrong footed. The King smiled madly. "Go on, try it. Although, I wouldn't suggest trying to attack me. You might hurt yourself. Eragon growled at the slur, but said nothing. Keeping his eyes on Galbatorix, he raised a hand palm upwards. "_Brisingr_." He hissed quietly. Flames erupted in his outstretched hand, his gedwey ignasia flaring up. Stunned, he watched the bright sapphire flames dance in his hand, tearing his eyes off the King in surprise. Before he'd even thought about the consequences of his actions, he flung the handful of flames towards Galbatorix in a sudden burst of rage. They grew and appeared to engulf the older man, but a second later they were barrelling back towards him, this time with flecks of black in the blue.

Eragon swore and flung himself out of the way, landing sprawled on the floor several feet away. The fireball exploded behind him, exactly where he'd been stood a second before. He cried out as stray flames licked at his arms, which he'd flung over his head to protect his face.

A moment later the burning sensation was gone, and Galbatorix was laughing. Eragon glared hatefully at him, feeling more embarrassed than fearful. "I did warn you." The King hissed, stepping closer. The brunette scrambled to his feet, not wanting to be sprawled on the floor, completely helpless, in front of his enemy. "I said you shouldn't attack me. My magical prowess far outstrips your own, although I will admit you have style. And agility. Not many people could have gotten out of the way so fast."

Eragon raised his eyebrows at the compliment. Apparently Lillian had been right. The King wanted him to willingly join his brother. Gods, was this ever confusing. The boy stared up at the taller man, feeling slightly intimidated and more than a little scared, but not daring to show it. Galbatorix laughed humourlessly. "Such fearlessness. I'm glad I didn't break you…would you believe I was advised to? Some of my closest…friends..." he murmured the word as though it had little meaning. "…even thought I should kill you. But you are far too valuable for that. At first I was inclined to think that it was merely your dragon that was important…after all…she's the only female dragon in existence. But you're not the naïve child I thought you were. You may be young, but if your brother could be swayed, why not you? After all, you'd make a formidable team."

Eragon listened in silence to this monologue. It seemed to contain veiled praise, and that more than anything made him nervous. He had little time to dwell on these thoughts; as the King was continuing, and, loathed as he was to listen, some of what Galbatorix was saying seemed important.

"There was a time when I needed neither of you. But now, I fear, the rebels have gotten out of control…but you'd know more about that, wouldn't you?" Leaving no time for a reply, he continued. "Imagine my annoyance when I heard that you were already 'on their side', as it were. You realise that you're fighting for an evil cause?"

Eragon bit back an angry retort. Spouting off about evil was probably not a good idea.

"Whatever that meddler, Brom, has put in your head, it's wrong. The man killed your father. How can you trust him? How do you know that what he said to you is not lies?"

This time, Eragon could not help himself. "Morzan was never my father. My mother wouldn't have kept me away from him if she wasn't sure he was evil!"

Galbatorix merely smiled. "Your poor mother. I suppose it is true that Morzan was a violent man…but that's what made him valuable! And now, it makes you valuable too."

"I'm not my father. Murtagh isn't either."

"Yet he has the unfortunate grievance of looking exactly like him. Sometimes I think it is him I'm seeing…" Galbatorix was goading him, and Eragon knew it. Biting his lip to stop himself shouting, he stared at the King, knowing he'd continue.

"You have been misinformed, Eragon. You've only heard one side of the story…it was the other riders who betrayed me!" 

"Oh, so I suppose becoming King was just a happy coincidence, then?" Galbatorix merely smiled at him. "Need I remind you," He said, his tone growing icier by the second, "of the precarious position you have found yourself in? I suggest that you think very carefully where your loyalties lie. Besides, if you continue to defy me, something very unpleasant may…accidentally…happen to your oh-so-caring older brother." Eragon's eyes narrowed and he looked away. "Touched a nerve?" The King hissed maliciously. "Get out."

Eragon turned to run, but suddenly found himself slammed backwards into a wall. The tip of a gleaming black-bladed sword was at his throat. He couldn't help it, he let out a startled cry.

"A little tip for the future." Galbatorix growled, pressing the sword point into the boy's neck, nicking it and eliciting a whimper in response. "Don't turn your back on me. I don't like it." He let go and shoved Eragon towards the door. He fled without a word.

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Hmm. Yay for the Lillian/Eragon fluffiness at the beginning there. I hope I didn't make the King OOC. I tried to keep him all evil and mad…did I do it:S

So…I couldn't be bothered with all the little symbols in gedwey ignasia. Sorry. I'm lazy. Next chapter's coming soon, we encounter Renn again! Shock horror! She emerges! And the King wants a chat with Murtagh…(evil face)

Murtagh: Thanks.

Me: No problem (angelic grin)

Murtagh: (grumbles)

Review? Look at the nice little bluey purple button, all cute and wanting to be pressed…………


	9. Chapter 9

Children of the Forsworn

Lalala. Another chapter. They aren't as fast as they used to be. Sorry. I am very busy at the moment!!! (I know…no excuse.) I hope I can keep you guys reading. I won't do individual review replies, I'm really worn out, and I know you guys just wanna read the story…so…thanks to ALL of you. You make this story worth writing and keep it going XD. Loves and hugs. Shadow xx

Disclaimer: I own nothing. Yada yada.

This chapter is dedicated to **ace03cute**, who I've been PM-ing recently. Keep up the writing!

Yeah. So. You go read now. Shoo.

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Renn threw another book onto an ever-growing pile on the floor in frustration. This just wasn't happening at all. There was nothing. Her father seemed to have thought of everything, and anything the raven-haired girl thought might work to get them all out seemed to come to a dead end. If she wasn't Renn, she would have given up. She had her father's stubbornness. How annoying that such a useful trait would come from _him_.

This was almost depressing. She hadn't actually left the library in days, choosing to sleep on a well-placed open book whenever exhaustion took hold. Her twin called her obsessive. She called it determination. Either way, it was draining her. It was lucky her father never came here; she'd have had a hard time hiding what she was doing, opened and scribbled over pages lay everywhere, obscuring tables, chairs and quite a large percentage of the floor. She was flitting from one book to the next, sometimes scribbling something with a too-short pencil.

"Renn?"

"Working."

"Reeeeeeeenn! Don't be cruel." Her little sister's musical voice interrupted her thought train. She turned to face Lillian, an impatient glare on her face. "What?"

"Aaran wants you to come down for dinner this evening. He thinks you're overworking yourself."

Renn pressed her forehead to the nearest wall. "I'm working. He knows that. You guys know what I'm like."

"Yeah, obsessive."

"Don't you start, cheeky." Lillian pouted and crossed her arms. The older girl sighed. "Can't you go bug someone else? Eragon maybe?" She said, emphasizing the younger boy's name. Her sister flushed and glared. "Oh _ha_. Very funny." Renn smirked. "Now if you don't mind…scoot. I'm busy."

"Busy obsessing." With that, she turned tail and ran, muttering under her breath about abusive big sisters.

"Call that a parting shot?" Renn yelled after her, somewhat lamely. Not much of a comeback, but never mind. Verbal slanging matches weren't exactly her forte. Never mind. What she was good at, was scheming. Yet another genetic thing, much to her displeasure. So she should do what she was good at.

But first she'd lock the door.

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"Ah…crap!" Murtagh sucked his finger, wincing. Torket burst out laughing, and even Aaran, usually somewhat emotionless, cracked a grin. "Wuss." The platinum-blonde laughed.

Torket sheathed his sword and cocked his head to one side. "It was hardly a strong hit." Murtagh glared at him, still sucking his finger. The blonde continued to goad him, enjoying himself immensely. "You look very juvenile when you do that."

Aaran snorted and Torket grinned, flashing relishing the dark haired boy's infuriation. He knew he had a way with words that, for some reason, seemed to irritate the oldest child of Morzan. Murtagh was clever, and sometimes witty, but not even he could outdo the younger boy in a vocal fistfight. Aaran didn't even try anymore. It didn't matter, since neither of them really disagreed about anything.

Murtagh whacked him upside the head and sheathed his own sword, leaving the sparring ring. Aaran ran after him. "Don't be boring! It's my turn to fight you."

"Too bad. I'm late for my training. Your father is gonna murder me."

"You wish." Torket cut in, keeping his eyes locked on Murtagh's, remembering the suicidal tendencies his friend had shown after being brought back here.

Murtagh's eyes darkened. "That's over, Torket. Maybe I used to want that. Now I have something to live for. And damn it, I'm going to fight for it." Torket smiled, happy with the older boy's answer. He nodded at Murtagh, who inclined his head in recognition.

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The dark haired Rider waited dispassionately outside the door of one of the larger training rooms, after knocking three times.

"Enter." The steely voice turned Murtagh's blood cold. Bugger, he sounded livid. He pushed open the door with a sigh and slid through it. The darkness was a drastic change after the bright daylight of the sparring ring, and he squinted, wondering why in Alagaesia's name it had to be so damn _dark_ all the time.

"You, boy, are late."

You've got your son to blame for that, Murtagh thought bitterly, but rather than voice his opinion and quite probably get murdered for his trouble, he settled for an ever-so-slightly-sarcastic "Forgive me, ebrithil."

Receiving no reply, he glanced up, a slight frown on his pale face. He still hadn't located exactly whereabouts in the gloom the King was hiding, and it gave him a horrible feeling that something bad, and quite possibly painful, was about to happen.

CRACK.

There it was. "Ah…" The boy swore and touched the side of his face, which stung like crazy. You have got to be kidding, he thought viciously, realising he'd just been _backhanded_, of all things. "That's a new low, even for you." He spat without thinking, finally able to see Galbatorix, who was stood a little way away in front of him. The older man's eyes flashed and he raised his hand, curling his fingers. Murtagh's throat constricted and he choked, not having time to cry out.

"How many more times? You do not speak to me with that tone of voice. Your sarcasm is wasted on me."

Well obviously it's not, if it's getting a reaction out of your twisted highness, Murtagh thought as he staggered backwards against the door, his hand flying to his neck, desperately trying to relieve the pressure.

"No! Stop!" A new voice cut in on Murtagh's thoughts, already turning blurry from lack of oxygen. He coughed and shook his head.

From out of the darkness behind the King, a smaller form appeared, the horror on his face evident. Where had he come from…Murtagh thought blearily, fighting for breath as his vision blacked out. His brother and the King exchanged words, Eragon desperate and pleading, Galbatorix scornful.

The pressure lifted and the dark haired boy fell to his knees, trying to shake the vision back into his eyes. A cold voice attacked the ensuing silence. "Well?"

"I…I…"

Murtagh forced his brain into gear, struggling to his feet.

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Eragon watched Galbatorix torture his brother, knowing exactly what the King was doing. As determined s he was not to swear allegiance to the arrogant madman, he still only lasted about…oh…thirty seconds. Some resolve, he though disgustedly to himself as he screamed, "No! Stop!"

"I had a feeling you'd say that."

"Let him go!" Eragon pleaded, unable to take his eyes off his older brother, who was leaning on the wall, choking and spluttering.

"Why?" The King asked, almost amused. Eragon stared.

"Because you'll kill him!" Galbatorix shrugged and released Murtagh, who slid down the wall onto his knees, coughing.

Eragon started towards him, but was pulled back irresistibly. Giving up, he glared hatefully at his enemy, who merely smiled serenely. He was insane. "Well?" The coldly amused voice hissed. Glancing at the dark haired boy who was still struggling for breath, the brunette muttered, "I…I…"

"Eragon…don't!" His brother suddenly gasped, having hauled himself to his feet. His eyes were screwed shut as he apparently tried to force more oxygen around his starved system. "Whatever he wants, don't bloody give it to him!" The words were hardly out of his mouth before Galbatorix caught him by his collar and hauled him off the floor. "Your input is NOT required." He hissed maliciously, throwing the boy bodily across the room. He crashed into the wall and lay still.

Too still.

"What have you done?" Eragon cried, furious. The King rounded on him, forcing him to take several steps back. "What do you think you stupid boy? You think I'm brainless enough to let him talk to you?" The younger boy bit his lip, still backing away. Galbatorix growled. "I've been patient. I've been lenient." Eragon barely held back a derisive snort.

Suddenly he felt a flash of cold, and Renn was beside him.

"What?"

She pulled him away from her father. Eragon gasped. The King was frozen in time. His jaw dropped. "Move!" Renn's agitated voice broke through his stupor. Murtagh was stood in the corner, rubbing his head, looking as dazed as he felt. When did he get up?

As he was literally shoved out of the door by Renn, she hissed, "We're leaving. Now."

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Yay for Renn! I love her. Yeah…the ending of this is a bit dodgy. You'll find out what happened next chapter. Let's just say Renn's a clever girl. I couldn't make the explanation easy from Eragon's point of view. Sorry. Next chapter should be up within a week or two now I'm back home and stuff. Toodles!

Oh yeah…and Shadow likes reviews!


	10. Chapter 10

Children of the Forsworn

Hello! I'm so pleased! Thanks everyone who took the time to review, I know the system was being screwy and not alerting those who want to be alerted…it doesn't tell me about reviews either, so I've been visiting my stats page a lot more recently…LOL. Ah well. Its sorted now.

It was really difficult to write this chapter, making it believable and all. That's why it took ages. Sorry.

Disclaimer: I own nothing but the plot, and a few OCs.

This chapter is dedicated to all my loverly girlies who come on this site just for me XD. You rock. Also to **obsessed wiv everything**. Who likes this story. This update is for you…

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"No way…" Renn stared at the book in her hands. "No. Way." She let it drop and sat down.

She'd done it.

It had been staring her in the face the whole time. She'd been looking in dusty old books and old scrolls for days…and the answer had been on her bedside table the whole time. She gazed at her favourite fairytale, mentally kicking herself, lifting the little leather-bound book off the table.

She read it slowly, letting a small smile grace her features as she admired the beautiful hand drawn artwork within. She stopped when she got to a certain picture, one with a small boy smiling at a confused princess. Renn grinned.

Time.

That was the answer. Her book was called The Time King, and her mother had read it to her when she was small. Her devious mind worked through all the possibilities at lightning speed. What was 'time' in the ancient language? What about 'stop'? How would 'freeze' work? She didn't think she'd ever heard of someone freezing time before…would it be possible to manipulate the ancient language in that way. She threw the book into the air.

"_Frisa_!" Ice crystals formed on the book, but it continued to fall until it hit the ground, shattering the frozen water. Renn frowned. Okay, not the answer. She gently picked up the book and placed it back on the bedside table. Turning in a circle, still frowning, she let her eyes wander over each of the objects in her room, her mind flipping over all possible combinations of words to make her idea work.

Picking up a trinket box, she repeated her earlier action and threw it upwards. As intended, the little knick knacks inside burst out and began to fall.

"_Frisa Ihret_!" Each of the little things in the air froze in place. She gasped. They were still moving, ever so slightly, just enough to look like they were made of paper, gently twisting in the wind. They were surrounded by an ethereal mist. She touched one, gently, and cried out at the intense cold she felt on her finger. The little ring fell from its place and clattered to the floor. Renn stared at it, then at her finger, which was red and chapped. Wow. That was cold. Curling her fingers, she tried to coax warmth back into her hand and arm, both of which had gone numb from the tiny touch.

She'd have to watch out for that. It was then that she noticed the utter silence. Her breath hitched in her throat as her ears strained to hear the ticking she associated with her little gold clock on her mantelpiece.

Nothing.

She turned slowly, biting her lip. The clock was frozen in place, each of the hands shivering slightly, but definitely not making a noise. She ran to it, feeling the first stirrings of unease. She grabbed it with both hands, turning it to face her.

Then she screamed in agony and dropped it to the floor, where it shattered into a thousand pieces. Intense cold crept up her arms, and the places the clock had touched were blistered, the skin peeling. She whimpered, her eyes watering with pain. She spun around and pulled at her door handle, crying out again as the cold feeling returned. _Everything_ was cold. Freezing. Being careful not to touch anything else, and cradling the hand that had touched the door, she stumbled into the hallway. Fear curled around her heart…what had she done? Flames were frozen in their torches, and there was a deathly quiet.

The first person she found was her little sister. Renn felt tears spring into her eyes. Lillian looked as though she had been carved out of marble. Her eyes were open and lifelike, but frozen. The older girl stumbled back, feeling real panic. She wanted to touch Lily, to bring her out of this trance, but she couldn't bear the cold, and she feared her fingers might freeze completely. Never in her life had her entire being felt so cold, not even when Aaran and Torket had locked her in the freezer when they were five.

Her feet were beginning to feel cold as well; the floor was obviously not exempt from her spell. Panic overwhelmed her. She had frozen everything. _Everything_. She ran to the nearest window, careful not to touch the sill. People walking outside were frozen in place. She'd stopped time. Just two worlds and she was the only being in existence. Her breath misted in front of her face. Even the air itself was beginning to freeze. The tears on her face were crystallising…this had to stop!

Stumbling backwards, she shook her head, which in her panic was devoid of thought. She screamed the first thing that came into her head.

"_Brakka du vanyali_!"

Suddenly everything moved again, a burst of noise almost deafened her, she clutched her head in pain at the onslaught and cried out. Falling against the wall, which felt blissfully warm on her freezing frame, she shivered in misery, letting tears of shock and relief fall down her cheeks.

-------

Lillian hadn't noticed her big sister before. How had she not seen her? Renn looked a mess, she was shivering, and tears fell from red rimmed eyes. Her face was blotchy, and her eyes were shining with panic.

"Renn!" The little girl's heart burst with concern as she fell to her knees next to her sister. Touching her arm, she recoiled. Renn was cold to the touch. Lillian felt fear clutch her. "Renn, what happened?"

"Lily…I…I…It's alright…I'll be alright…I just panicked, that's all. I did something, something happened, and I wasn't sure if I could make it un-happen…"

"Renn?"

Was it just her, or had the temperature dropped?

-------

Confusion was etched all over her younger sister's face. Renn shook herself, finally feeling warmth creeping back into her system. Her brain began to function again, already analysing, figuring out just what went wrong. She let Lillian pull her to her feet.

She smiled at the girl, who was biting her lip, looking extremely concerned. "I'm okay, Lily…better than okay, I promise. I think I need a rest..."

"Alright, but…be careful…don't kill yourself…"

She was genuinely afraid, Renn thought, mentally slapping herself for worrying her sister. She felt Lillian's eyes on her as she retreated to her room.

Her floor was littered with the trinkets and the broken pieces of her clock. With a wave of her hand and a whispered word, the mess vanished. She sat on the end of her bed. She hadn't felt so drained in years.

Later, she knew her brother would flip. He'd shout at her for being so stupid, and somehow Renn felt she probably deserved it. What if she hadn't been able to undo her mistake? Time would still be frozen – literally…and she'd probably have died of cold. Smart plan. Already her mind was trying to figure out a way around the issue, because she estimated that she wouldn't be able to hold time suspended for very long if the whole world would freeze within minutes.

Minutes. That was crazy. Maybe 'freeze' was the wrong word. The ancient language was, of course, very literal. She 'froze' time. What if she stopped it? Or held it back somehow? Was there any other way to do it? She thought for a moment about the word 'brakka', thinking of how she used it to stop the flow of magic. Then she shook her head. Who knew what the words 'break time' could do. She could order time to halt, she supposed…

Maybe tomorrow. Her head was fuzzy and her thoughts were becoming sluggish. If she attempted magic now, she'd probably be knocked unconscious, especially the spell she was thinking of.

-------

Eight hours of sleep did wonders for one's head, the King's eldest daughter mused as she changed her clothes. In her fatigue the night before, she had failed to change into nightclothes, choosing instead simply to collapse on her bed.

Never mind. She wore black, as usual, just like her siblings, and for that matter, the other three young people living in the palace. Even Morzan's youngest had taken after his brother and worn black. It definitely looked better on him than the earth colours he used to wear; at least, Lillian thought so. Her little sister's infatuation with Eragon was escalating, and of course the boy was clueless. Well, maybe not clueless…just slightly unsure as to how to react. He was only sixteen, after all.

She sighed and turned to face the door, when there was an angry cry from somewhere below her. Creasing her forehead in confusion, she left, following the sound.

Surprise surprise. Her father's training room. She put her ear to the door, wondering who was in there.

Someone touched her shoulder. She freaked out, thinking it was someone about to ask her why she was sneaking around. Leaping back, she caught her chest as she realised it was only her siblings. "Jeez. Way to scare me…what's going on?"

Lillian shrugged, but looked scared. Aaran murmured, "He's got both of them in there…I sent Torket to see Saphira and Thorn, see if they can tell us what's going on." Renn grimaced.

"I can only assume he's forcing Eragon to swear allegiance?" Aaran nodded grimly at Renn's statement. At that point there was an angry, scared-sounding shout from behind the door. It tipped the already frustrated and stressed Princess over the edge. "Okay, I've had enough. Screw the research, screw my damn Father, screw magic."

She slammed open the door, hissing "_Frisa Ihret_!" at the same time. Knowing she had little to no time before it started to get cold, she sprinted to Murtagh, who was lying on the floor, eyes closed. She shook his shoulder, drawing her hand away, hissing from the sting. When he still didn't move, she realised he was unconscious and rolled her eyes. Perfect. A spanner in the works already. Her time was limited and she had to wake up a concussed teenager. "Wake up! Come on, this is no time to pass out!" she cried, frustrated. She shook him violently, taking her anger out on him. She'd apologise later. At least he was no longer freezing to touch. Her hand was blistered from the one touch already, and she still had to 'wake up' the others.

A low moan, accompanied by a slight stirring of his shoulders informed the dark haired girl that Murtagh was awake. Leaving him to get himself off the floor, she moved to where Eragon and the King stood, frozen mid-argument. Casting a resentful look at her father and resisting the urge to do something childish while he was frozen, she touched Eragon's shoulder. This time, she almost cried out at the pain. "Oh my poor hand…" she murmured as Eragon turned to face her, confusion etched all over his face. "What?" he hissed, staring at her. Of, course, it would have seemed to him like she had appeared out of thin air. Oh well. She'd explain later. She could already feel the temperature dropping.

"Move!" she growled, shoving Eragon towards the door, pausing do grasp Murtagh's wrist. The jerk made him fall against the wall, where he cried out in surprise. "The wall's freezing!" He grumbled as he followed them out.

-------

Eragon had never been more confused in his entire life. Aaran and Lillian stood in front of him, staring through sightless eyes. "Touch Lily's shoulder. Careful, it'll hurt. My hand hurts enough already." Renn snapped, grasping her twin brother's hand, withdrawing it quick as lightning.

He reached out and poked the younger girl. Then he yelped. "Ahaha…that's cold…" the numbing feeling was spreading up his arm. He shook it warily as Lillian broke out of the spell. "What's going on…?" She mumbled, looking as mystified as he felt. He shrugged, suddenly feeling cold all over. His breath was steaming in front of him. Renn was shaking, visibly affected, and the other three were starting to shiver. Aaran cocked his head. "Care to explain?" he muttered to his sister. She shook her head. "No time. We have to move. Fast. I want to find Torket before I break the spell, we have to be a long way away."

-------

Lillian felt very stupid as she ran behind the others, trying desperately to work out what had happened. They'd been talking…and now they were running. Somehow, there just didn't seem to be anything in between the two events. This confused her even more. How did that even work? She tried to ignore the freezing cold air…and that was another thing. It was sunny…why was it so cold? It felt like winter…a very cold winter.

The biting chill was making her eyes water, and the tears were practically freezing on her face. Brushing her hand against her cheeks she sniffled.

Torket was right where Aaran said he'd be. Her older brother's jaw dropped. "Please, Renn…tell me you didn't do this…"

"Of course I did." She snapped, getting more and more agitated. Lillian noticed raw patches on her arms and hands, raw patches that were creeping across more of her exposed skin. The younger girl winced. Everyone was shivering, and Renn looked three times as cold as they did. Her big sister shakily reached out to Torket, but stopped herself. She moaned, before screaming, "_Brakka du vanyali_!" Instantly the temperature began to rise again, and Renn fell against the wall, shaking badly. Both dragons were roaring in surprise, and then it hit Lillian. Time. Her sister had frozen time. Frozen being the appropriate word.

"Renn…" She murmured. "Are you crazy?"

"Come…come here, all of you…" She gasped, beckoning. "Make sure you're all touching me." There were protests, but she screamed, "DO it!" No-one missed the urgency in her voice, and rushed to obey her, no matter how confused they were. Even the two dragons, after exchanging glances, leant bown, extending claws to touch Renn's trembling form.

"_Fri…_" she stopped, breathing hard. Lillian was suddenly scared. She wasn't about to do magic again? In this state? Renn shook herself, and cried, "_Frisa Ihret_!"

A flash of cold. Shruiken, who had been watching them interestedly but had not deigned to join the activities, was frozen in place. Lillian shook herself as Renn collapsed. Caught by Torket, she shivered and began to speak, in a very faint whisper. "Fly…from here. The wards. They're…frozen. I stopped…time. They'll…shatter…I think. They won't…work…because of the time…the time…"

-------

"Renn?" Aaran cried, scared. His sister was barely breathing. She caught his arm. "When it gets too cold…Aaran…too cold…" she shook herself again. "The spell is broken when you…cancel the magic…break the…magic." With that, she fainted. He panicked, knowing instantly she'd done too much, too powerful magic. Clutching his face he shook his head, staggering against the wall, trying to process the information he'd just received. Except the wall was freezing. He felt his back go numb. Aaran glanced at the others, who were shaking. Then he took control, instantly knowing what his sister wanted. "Murtagh, Torket, take Renn. Thorn, can you manage three?"

The ruby dragon huffed in derision as if to say, _of course._ Eragon, you me and Lillian will go on Saphira. Renn wants us to leave. She's been planning this for a long time…she says the wards will break, and I believe her. She might be…" his voice cracked. "She might have killed herself to get us all out. The least we can do is try."

No-one hesitated. The boy took one more look at Renn, in Torket's arms, before moving to help Lillian onto Saphira. Eragon and Murtagh were already up in a riding position, both of them glancing upwards, towards the hole in the ceiling both of them knew was protected by powerful wards. Did Renn know they would break? Both Riders looked nervous. After all, it would be their dragons, and by extension, themselves who would come off worst if she was wrong…

Feeling the temperature drop by the second, Aaran checked that everyone was safe and shrugged, before murmuring, "Here goes…I hope you're right Renn…"

_And I hope you're safe._

-------

Ooer. Look at the length! 7 pages! XD Yay. I thought this would be up days ago, but I edited the end what, four? Five times?

I still hate it, but y'know, it'll never go up if I don't post now. Tell me what you think.

Oh, and another cliffhanger. I was going to continue, but I'll leave it there. You'll find out if Renn's rather 'spur of the moment' idea will work next week? Two weeks? I know I know. I'm a sporadic updater. Sorry!

Oh, and we're counting down the chapters, now! I'm over halfway through! Yay! (Surprisingly, this is actually a PLANNED story…it may not seem like it…but…hey.)


	11. Chapter 11

Children of the Forsworn

Lalala. Hey! Chapter 11! Well, technically its 10, since 6 was an authors note….ah well. I know I left a cliffhanger at the end of the last chapter. I've stuck this up as quick as possible, (okay not that quick) so I don't get hung drawn and quartered...

Ooh…it took me over a month to do! I know the plot, I'm just having major writers block…

**Disclaimer:** Sheesh, how many more times? _Not_ mine, _all _his…the great Mr P himself, yada yada yada.

Dedicated to **animeluva713**, who's been chatting to me recently. Go read her stories! (I assume it's 'her'. If I'm wrong, give me an earful and I'll change it :S)

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Murtagh eyed the roof with a growing sense of dread. _Thorn…_

_Now is not the time to doubt Renn. She said it would work…trust her. It's not like you have the time to doubt her, anyway. It's getting cold._

"I know…" He grimaced, gazing at the hole in the ceiling, which looked innocent, but felt wrong. The hum of magic surrounded him, his trained, hypersensitive mind could feel the familiar warm glow of Thorn's magic, a feeling he recognised and embraced, he felt the cool touch of Saphira, the calculating strength of Aaran, the gentle hum of Torket, the hyperactive flutter of Lillian, the faint, almost absent feathery stroke of Renn, and the devoted aura that was unmistakeably Eragon.

And then there was the ward, which contained the might of Galbatorix. "What are we doing?" He whispered to himself. At a nod from Eragon, the two dragons launched themselves into the sky. He felt Torket grasp his shirt and cling to Renn, and he saw Lillian clinging to his brother for dear life. The ceiling came closer…closer, Murtagh winced a split second before impact.

The world exploded into a million green tinted lights. Shards of frozen magic shattered and fell, raining to the ground before being swallowed up by the stiff grass. Murtagh could see nothing but white, and the huff of his breath in front of him. He cried out at the blinding whiteness, and dimly heard several other voices do the same. Then it was gone, and as he turned around to look, he saw the last few shards of what was once a ward tumble to the ground and die.

"We…we did it…"

-------

Below them, a large black dragon cocked his head. In their haste, the children had failed to notice him. In his mind, he laughed. Children were such miraculous things. They thought themselves grown up, but they still had the childishness that he had loved so much ten years ago. Their obliviousness to some of the things that went on around them was amusing. Luckily Shruikan had no intention of harming them, or of informing Galbatorix exactly how they'd broken his wards. Made possible the impossible. The black creature shifted. He had felt Renn's spell touch him, and had shaken it off like so many droplets of water.

Yes, he was powerful. He doubted that even Glaedr had the sort of power he possessed. But it was dark, this power. Unnatural. Trained into him by an arrogant and power-hungry master. No man would ever understand the extent of Shruikan's existence, and Thorn and Saphira could only begin to guess.

The death of his old rider and the splicing of his magic to a new, unworthy one, had opened up worlds of knowledge and understanding. Never had anyone experienced such an unwelcome and perverse feeling. His mind was twisted to the King's, but Shruikan could have his secrets. Oh yes, the black dragon knew more than he would ever let on to his 'master'.

He watched the youngsters disappear, his keen eyes focussing on the eldest member of their group. He was going to suffer much for this second bout of treachery. The boy's mind still belonged to Galbatorix, and in all of Renn's planning, she had failed to account for that. Of course, the child would never truly be free until the King was killed, and unfortunately Shruikan wouldn't be around to see the outcome.

He sent his eye forward, staring through the mists of time, trying to determine if the children would live, grow old, have children of their own. And he smiled at what he saw.

-------

"B…brakka du vanyali!" Aaran murmured, teeth chattering. At once the world moved again, trees began to whisper in the breeze, and miles away, people went about their lives.

The boy slid off Saphira and stumbled to where his sister now lay, her face pale, drained of colour. Murtagh was trying to bring warmth to her seemingly lifeless body by rubbing her bare arms. "Come on sister…" Aaran moaned, tears forming at the corners of his eyes. "You can't leave us now…look what you did…Renn you did it! You're amazing Renn…"

There was no reaction. The black haired boy felt the tears slide from his eyes as he pulled his cold twin close. "Renn…please don't leave me…" How could he go on without her? They had their differences, but she'd always been there, what was he supposed to do if she died? He felt Lillian collapse to her knees beside him, and heard her tiny, scared voice. "Is she…"

"No!" Aaran wouldn't let her say it. "Don't say it Lillian, she'll be alright, she just needs to rest…"

"Then let her rest." Torket murmured, anxious eyes on the prone form of his best friend's sister. "Just make sure she'd warm, crying and suffocating her isn't helping." Murtagh nodded from where he stood a little way back, next to Eragon and their dragons. The two brothers looked very similar in the darkness, and briefly Aaran wondered how they'd managed to travel together for so long and not realise the connection. He shook himself as he stared back down at his sister, who was still pale as a ghost. He tried checking her pulse, but there was, as expected, nothing. Well, at least nothing a human could sense. Her magic had exhausted her, perhaps to her breaking point, but it wouldn't do to dwell on that, as those are the kind of thoughts that, when left unchecked, can destroy you.

He took a deep breath and laid Renn on the ground. Eragon spoke for the first time since their hasty departure. "Are we far enough away? Won't they come looking? He knows we've left…right?"

"Mmm…" Aaran made a noncommittal noise as he covered Renn in his cloak. "He can send all the armies he likes, they can't outrun dragons."

_Shruikan could._ Saphira voiced her thought to the whole group. Lillian looked uneasy, but spoke up anyway. "I don't think father will ride Shruikan. He hasn't in a long time…not while I've been alive anyway. But…I don't suppose I'm a fair judge…"

They were interrupted by a sudden, agonised cry. Aaran leapt to his feet as Murtagh fell to his knees, eyes screwed up in pain. "He's…looking for me…he's inside my head…" He cried out again, and Lillian screamed. She flung herself at Murtagh's younger brother. "Eragon, do something!" Aaran glanced at the brunette, and saw fear flashing in his eyes. He shook himself and held his hand out to his brother. "_Slythr tivala_!"

Murtagh stopped gasping for breath and fell forward into Eragon's arms. Lillian grabbed the eldest boy's hand, frightened tears staining her face.

"What did you do?" Aaran murmured, disturbed by how deep his father's hold on Morzan's eldest son went.

"Put him into a dreamless sleep." Eragon replied shortly. "I just did the first thing that came into my head. Galbatorix can't invade him like this, I've seen it done before. What I don't know is how to stop it. He can't sleep forever…"

Aaran sighed. They were two down already, and they were probably the two most likely to have a good plan. Brilliant. They were probably now going to…

"Aaran?"

…Look to him.

"What are we going to do now?"

-------

Eragon woke to the sound of crying, and he frowned. Who was in his room and why…then he remembered, the memories of last night crashing down on him. He was instantly alert, wary of the surrounding silence. Then a sob broke it, and he got up to follow the sound. _It's Lillian._ Saphira warned sleepily, having woken at the same time he had.

Eragon grimaced, but kept moving. Spotting Lillian resting against a small tree, her head on her knees, he sighed and sat down next to her.

After a minute, she sniffed and murmured, "This is all wrong."

"Wrong?"

"Murtagh's hurt and can't wake up, because my own father might kill him, or worse, if he does, and Renn…might…be…"

Eragon copied Aaran's technique, sensing more tears. "Don't say it. It'll make it worse." Lillian sniffed again, so Eragon pulled her into an awkward embrace, letting the little girl lean her head on his shoulder. He suddenly became very conscious of the fact that she was only twelve, and hoped he hadn't started something he couldn't finish. She cried on him for quite some time. Eragon just sat there and let her. He wasn't sure what to do, he'd never had to deal with this sort of problem before.

"Eragon?"

"Yeah?" Uh oh. Why did he have an awful feeling that the problem was about to get worse?

"I like you a lot." Oh dear. Now what was he supposed to do? Cursing himself for his lack of a functioning brain at the present time, he just stared at her. Lillian cracked a small smile. "Well at least you don't seem surprised." She murmured. "I did wonder for a while…Renn…" here her voice almost cracked, but she continued. "Renn always told me I was being really obvious."

Eragon suddenly found his tongue. "Lily…"

-------

Lillian decided she didn't like that tone of voice. Internally she cursed herself. Of course he didn't love her, she was just a kid, and a bratty one at that…

Eragon grasped her hand. "I'm almost seventeen, and you're a lot younger than me. Too young to understand the feelings you think you have."

"I don't think, I know!"

"Let me finish." The boy replied soothingly, to which Lillian tensed. Don't you dare…she thought…don't patronise me…he smiled and she relaxed. "Right now, both of us have a lot on our minds. Your sister, my brother, all our futures…we're still just children, but this fate has been forced upon us, and there isn't much we can do about it. Until all this is over, normal things have to be forced to the back of our heads." He frowned. "I'm not doing very well, am I?"

Lillian smiled weakly and shook her head. Eragon grimaced. "Erm…Lil, I know how it feels to be told you can't see someone you think you love, and turst me…" he laughed at some inside joke, "I know all about age gaps in relationships."

She cocked her head to one side, then stood up, not understanding what he was saying. She could feel her heart skipping. "Alright. I don't know what you're trying to say, but I'm tired." She said shakily. The black haired girl turned and began to walk away.

"Lily, wait!" Eragon grasped her arm and pulled her back, into a warm embrace. She shivered at his touch and looked up at him confusedly.

"I love you, Lillian. I'll wait for you. You won't be a little girl forever." He let her go, and she closed her eyes, her childish heart bursting with a sudden rush of emotion. Eragon's lips brushed her cheek with a touch so soft it was barely noticeable, before leaving her alone, presumably to return to where the others were sleeping.

She stood, her hand on her cheek, staring after him. He loved her. He'd said it. She suddenly found her voice and called after him. "You…you promise?"

He turned, his figure just visible in the enveloping darkness. There was no fire, of course, the smoke would be too easily spotted.

"I promise."

-------

Cute fluffiness between Eragon and Lillian! Hopefully you'll like what I've done with them…………let me know…Eragon says some very poignant and thoughtful things. HE GAINS SOME BRAIN CELLS! WHEEEE!

But they're not doing so well at the moment are they? 2 down, 4 to go… (insert evil grin here)

Eragon: Why do I have a bad feeling about this?

Shadow: Because I already told you the plot

Eragon: Oh yeah.

Shadow: Now shut up and go look after your brother. Or be cute with Lillian. Or…something.

Eragon: Yes m'am.

Well hey there! I'm finally getting back into this story, so hopefully updates will be faster! Sorry to keep you all waiting! Oh and by the way, I'm working on a piece of artwork to go with this story, which I will post the URL for in the chapter after I receive 100 reviews.

Consider it a thank you present!


	12. Chapter 12

Children of the Forsworn

Yay! Fastest update in a loooong time! I hope you're impressed! Shadow's getting her groove back!

The constant sugar high I have at the moment MAY just have something to do with it. You have the pixie sticks to thank for this chapter…they like to mess with my head.

**Disclaimer:** This gets repetitive and boring, but I don't want anyone suing me…so…

Chris Pauolini owns all of it! Except the plot and my OC's. Love OC's. Well. I love mine anyway XD

**Dedication:** To my most faithful reviewers: **Dragon Rider Murtagh, **and **jimmy barnes 13, **who have reviewed almost constantly, and both given me loads of support and encouragement. Thanks you two! Also to **ace03cute**. You are AWESOME.

Ooh, and a big hello to **Sk8er ShiningAngel**. Thanks for the PMs! XD. I'm glad you like my story!

And we're getting closer to 100 reviews…. Not so many for chapter 11 though…

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Galbatorix sat in his throne, fuming. They had run away. They. Had. Run. Away. Eragon had somehow slipped through his fingers, taking Murtagh, and damn it, his own children, with him.

Not that he gave a damn about the three of them. He didn't give a damn about anyone. To feel love was to be weak. He'd used love against people all the time. Threaten their family and they do what you say. The King had trained himself to not feel, to be void of any emotion other than hate.

They would all pay. No longer did he want Eragon on his side. He had been kind, he had tried to bring about the return of the Riders, but now they had insulted him by turning their ungrateful backs on him.

Now he had one goal. Destroy them both.

-------

Torket didn't doubt that the little group had grown closer since their escape. Two days surviving on their own hadn't had much effect on Eragon, but the three Uru'baen citizens were feeling the strain. Aaran and himself had been trained for this, but had never actually had to go anywhere on their own, without an armed, fully trained guard party.

Renn had been showing signs of life this morning, much to their relief, she had apparently pulled through. She'd need a lot more recovery time, however, and probably wouldn't wake up for a while yet.

After several hours arguing, which the blond had sensibly stayed out of, Eragon had persuaded Aaran to relocate to the Spine, where the young brunette was convinced they would be relatively safe. Unfortunately, that was a months ride away, and even on the backs of dragons would take several days. Lillian had taken it upon herself to look after Murtagh and Renn, but was certain that the dark-haired boy needed feeding, whereas Eragon was adamant he did not.

"Murtagh's systems are effectively shut down." He had said, and no amount of whining on Lillian's part had persuaded him to relinquish any of the food he and the other two boys found. For his part, the brunette had not touched meat of any sort, which Aaran had been quick to pick up on. When asked, the younger boy had simply shaken his head and told them he didn't like it.

Confusing. Torket wondered whether it had something to do with being a rider. The world of the Dragon Riders was not totally alien to him, but he'd never even seen a dragon until Murtagh had appeared with Thorn.

When he was younger he'd entertained the idea of being a Dragon Rider himself, but by now he had decided that it wasn't the life for him. He was born to be a soldier, he had discipline and courage, but he'd be damned if he was going to join Galbatorix' army. So he'd stuck with Aaran, whose only goal in life was to live through the day they were in. Unlike Renn, he wasn't the type to think about the future. Live each day as it comes, was his theory…how unlike each other they were. And yet…

Sometimes, Torket missed the company of a sibling, the bond between them was so strong, and it was, of course, mirrored perfectly by the bond between the older and younger sons of Morzan.

He was jerked out of his thoughts by Eragon.

"Ready to move?" The brunette looked tired, dark circles under his eyes. "We're all set, Aaran's on Thorn with Murtagh and Lillian, and you're coming with me this time." They changed around often, giving both dragons the chance to take the much lighter Lillian as an extra passenger.

Torket simply nodded, then he looked at the sky. "It's going to rain today." He murmured. Turning to Eragon, he said, "Make sure everyone's warm clothes are accessible."

They'd found out the hard way exactly how horrible it is flying in the clouds when it's raining. Eragon was used to it, and Murtagh would be if he were awake to be used to anything at all, but Lillian found that her hands went numb very quickly, and it was dangerous for Renn, as they couldn't tell how cold she actually was.

Eragon sighed. "Done. Aaran thought it was going to rain, too. We should be in the Spine in two days, at the most."

"Have you thought of where we're stopping? We want to avoid contact, remember?" They had agreed not to speak to anyone, not even the Varden. Torket had been sure that Eragon would have wanted to go back to them, but to his surprise, the boy had been adamant that they should not. His face had closed up, and Torket wondered if the young brunette was feeling slightly betrayed by his old allies.

"Yes. The other side of Leona Lake, where the mountain range begins. There'll be lots of cover, and then we can go as far North as we like."

"Would it not be better to remain close? I for one would like to be here when the Varden finally clash with the King."

Eragon gave him a strange look. "You want to be involved?"

"You don't?"

"I…I don't know. Part of me wants to run away, and live safe and secluded in the Spine. The other part wants to stop Galbatorix."

Torket smiled and rested a hand on Eragon's shoulder. "We'd never be safe, no matter how secluded we are. Even if we did, you'd have the King label you as a coward? Everyone I love and care about is here now, but you have friends and family outside of this little group of the Forsworn's children. Would you abandon them?"

-------

Eragon stared at the boy he knew least of all those present, finally realising just how intelligent he was. Torket was quiet, only talking when necessary, and in the space of five minutes, had probably said more to the younger boy than he ever had before. He honestly hadn't spared the Varden much thought, deciding that they'd effectively forgotten who he was, but he realised he'd be leaving so many friends behind if he vanished.

Roran and Katrina, he actually quite wanted to know if they got back safely after he was captured…and Arya, who was probably mad at him for being stupid…and Nasuada…she was his liegelord, he had sworn to protect and serve her. And he'd been thinking about running away! He answered Torket's question with a frown. "No. I wouldn't. You're right. Besides, Renn will recover quicker if she can rest in one place. We'll stay near Leona Lake, that way we're not more than a day's flight away from the borders of Surda, where I am assuming the Varden are still camped."

"Then, yes. I'm ready to move."

Eragon rolled his eyes and followed the blond boy over to Saphira, who was huffing impatiently.

_You took your time._

_Yes…he spoke to me for ages…_

_You seem distracted, little one._ She sounded concerned, so Eragon flashed a grin at her. "I'm alright. Just thinking." Saphira inclined her head and spread her long wings as he joined Torket and Renn, placing himself in front of them.

_Feel free to share your thoughts, Eragon._

_I will. Not now though. Be careful Saphira, I don't like how dark those clouds are._

_Stop fussing. Clouds are good for cover, we've flown plenty of times in the rain. At least we aren't wearing heavy armour._

Eragon murmured his assent before they took off.

-------

Several hours later, Eragon's fingers were numb, and Torket was clinging to both him and Renn, keeping them all on the blue scales of Saphira. The brunette was reminded of the last time he'd flown like this, with Roran. He'd changed a lot since then, he was older, more mature, and more worldly wise. It had been barely three months, yet Eragon felt like he'd been away for years.

It would be nice to see the Spine again though. he wondered how Thorn was faring without Murtagh.

_I'm doing just fine. You shouldn't let your thoughts wander so freely, young one._ Eragon almost fell off in shock, he hadn't realised he'd let his defences down. He heard the ruby dragon huffing in amusement and he sent him a guilty look. _How is Murtagh?_ He asked.

_You say that several times a day. I know no more than you do. He's closed, as it were._

_Good. I don't want the King hurting him._

_I'm more concerned about our future. Galbatorix is not going to be happy, and whilst he now has no control over Murtagh, he still believes he can control me. When he finds out he can't, he'll be even angrier. I doubt the future of dragon kind will be of much consequence to him anymore, he will try to kill us._

_What do you mean, he can't control you?_

_You have Shruikan to thank for that. He showed me how to protect myself from the inflictions of man. He said he didn't want to see any dragon's will bent by a mind other than that of his Rider._

_I feel sorry for Shruikan._ Thorn didn't answer, and Eragon turned his attention back to the sky. He hadn't forgotten what Murtagh had said on the Burning Plains about Galbatorix knowing Thorn's true name, and it had plagued him constantly. Who had been to say that Thorn wouldn't suddenly howl with pain and fall, taking three of them with him?

Now he was reassured, and silently sent a vow to Shruikan. He would free him from the mad King's service. If death was the only way to do it, he'd kill them both.

-------

Lillian slid off Thorn with a low moan.

"Stiff?" Laughed Eragon. She stuck her tongue out and stretched, letting out a whine. "Are we flying tomorrow as well? I don't think my legs can take another day…"

"No. We're staying here for now."

The little girl let out a sigh of relief and looked around. Well, there were a lot of trees, that was for sure. To her left, where they'd just flown in from, she knew there was a steep drop and more mountains, and to her right, the mountain they had landed on stretched up and into the clouds. It was pretty, although a slight mist coated the floor, and tiny droplets of water clung to the branches of the tall pine trees. There was no snow yet, if Lily knew her seasons, which she did, it shouldn't snow for another few months.

She stopped staring and turned to help Aaran construct a platform. "What's this for?" She asked him, holding two lengths of twine to stop the thing from falling while her brother tightened the knots. "It's unhealthy to sleep on the floor in this mist, we'll catch cold. So if we all lie on this, we can stay above it. It wouldn't matter so much, but since Murtagh and your sister will be spending all day lying down, its best if we kept them above the cloud."

"I…see." She simply nodded, deciding not to mention that if they moved a little further uphill they may be out of the mist. Her brother's temper was stretched to breaking point after a third day of non-stop riding, and she did NOT want to be the one it was unleashed on.

"Food." Torket's voice was cracked with disuse; he hadn't spoken much on the trip, and the cold had actually gotten to him more than he'd admit. In his pale hands he held two hares. "You caught them quick." Aaran commented.

"There's hundreds, it wasn't difficult."

Lillian saw Eragon grimace, and move to sit with the two dragons. He conversed with them for a moment, before they took off again, startling the three others. "Where are they going?" She called to Eragon, who had leaned against the tree nearest his older brother. He smiled slightly. "They want to hunt. I don't suppose they've really eaten much since they were at the palace." With that, he stared at Murtagh, looking like he was trying to memorise his face.

Intrigued, Lillian sat down next to him. "Why do you look at him like that?" The brunette turned to her. "A year and a half ago, when I first met him, he was my friend. Three months ago I met him again on the Burning Plains, only he turned up as my enemy. Moments later I found out he was my brother, and that the hated murderer Morzan was my father. In the last three months I've gotten more used to it, but sometimes I still feel overwhelmed. I've grown up my whole life thinking I was an only child. But he's my brother. That's the closest family I've ever had, and I've only had him three months. I get this horrible feeling that he's going to…" his voice cracked.

"Eragon, you told me not to worry about Renn. Murtagh can take care of himself. He has done for nineteen years, he's got a talent for surviving. Besides, he won't leave you without a fight. He cares about you. He didn't know about you until a few months ago, either. As for me, I'm surprised you two didn't make the connection in the months you were together. You look similar."

Eragon's worry had ebbed, and he turned to the dark blonde girl. Searching for a less morbid topic, he muttered, "Your hair, it must come from your mother?"

"Yes…" She replied, wondering why on Earth he'd chosen this of all topics. "Aaran and Renn got my father's dark hair and pale skin, but I'm a copy of my mother." She looked at her arms, which were tan coloured, and not at all like the rest of her family. Her mother had been fairly dark-skinned, and she was a mix of the two. Sighing, she moved to lie down next to Renn. Sleep came ridiculously fast after riding, which considering she'd been sat on her arse all day was absurd…

-------

In the dark depths of his mind, Murtagh was waiting. It was like a coma, he thought, he was aware that he was sleeping, but could not access his thoughts or feelings. It was very boring, and whilst he was grateful to his brother for easing the pain, he was going to kill him when he woke him up again. In the nicest possible way of course. Time stretched on forever, and Murtagh prayed to whatever god that existed that they'd break him out of this soon, preferably with a way to stop Galbatorix preying on his mind.

-------

Phew.

Torket finally gains a character! Yippee! He was so flat and boring up until now. Now he has a personality!

Decision time. Originally I had intended to put Murtagh with Nasuada (who is in fact coming into this story…pretty soon.) because I always pictured Renn as someone who would rather be alone…Buuuuuut…some of you have been asking about the possibility of Renn and Murtagh being a couple, I jiggled the storyline and now can tell you that I could make it work to be that way if you'd like. Votes? The main storyline won't change too much, but bear in mind your decision will have consequences. Not everyone is going to survive…

Eragon: Don't look at me like that.

Shadow: Like what?

Eragon: You know, all evil.

Shadow: Aw, you worried I'm going to kill you?

Lillian: You wouldn't dare.

Shadow: Nah, Eragon's the typical cute-but-annoying kid. Couldn't kill him off…

Eragon: Thank god for that. Wait…hey!

Getting closer to that fanart…ace knows, I've chatted to her about it XD

Review please! Nice button…


	13. Chapter 13

Children of the Forsworn

Chapter…thirteen are we up to? Yes. Right, good…I noticed that recently my story's been rather lacking in humour. This is not because they are in a dark situation (one can always make light of a dark situation) it is because Shadow has lost her ability to be funny. Remember the pixie sticks? Apparently that is a side effect. AS IS LOSING MY FLAMING MUSES!!! They ran away to play a role in the theatre adaptation of Hercules. I'm filing a lawsuit to get them back.

Thanks for the reviews, and I'm not really sure who to dedicate this chapter to…so I'll make it for the people who let me live with them. (The fools) They are unlikely to read this…but oh well. Maybe they all have secret accounts that I don't know about. (Not likely. I doubt they'd even know what a website IS…)

Disclaimer: Chris P owns the lot. If I owned them, I wouldn't be sat here writing this, I'd be in my millionaire's mansion, and Eragon would be in the adult section of Waterstones.

You should thank Within Temptation for this chapter being posted at all. I was having a real block, but listening to their music gave me some inspiration :)

-------

Renn listened, mouth slightly open, as a hyperactive blonde girl talked at an alarming speed about three inches in front of her face.

Lillian had been completely ecstatic when Renn had finally woken from her sleep, and the very first thing she had informed her big sister was that it had been _most___unfair to leave her with a bunch of teenaged boys all by herself. By now, barely twenty minutes later, she had found out where they were, how they'd got there, what was wrong with Murtagh, and what their plans were. Numbly, she nodded, taking in the grins from the three boys huddled round a small fire. As Lily finally let go of the dark haired girl, Aaran stood up, pulled her to her feet and hugged her so tightly she swore her ribs were going to crack. "I thought I'd lost you…" He murmured into her ear. She rubbed his back, slightly awkwardly. What are you supposed to say to that? In the end she just said, "Well, you didn't…"

Great. Good one Renn. You must only have a few brain cells left for that comeback…

Aaran grinned and they sat down side by side, instantly feeling warm from the heat of the fire. Then something occurred to her. "Where are the dragons?" Her voice was slightly hoarse and she coughed, before accepting a cup of water from Eragon with a quiet answer. "Hunting. They'll be back early tomorrow."

Renn nodded. It looked quite late, the stars were winking at her overhead, and she smiled, looking at her friends and siblings. Suddenly she snorted. Torket was the first to frown. "What?"

"Notice how we're all wearing black? We look like a cult. Or a pack of bandits. I just…thought it was amusing." To her relief, Eragon, Lillian and Torket grinned, and Aaran looked at himself, nodding matter-of-factly.

There was a long silence, which, yet again, Renn broke. "So…we're waiting for dad to make a move."

"Since when was he ever 'dad'?" Aaran growled.

She shrugged. "Didn't feel right to call him King. He was never all that good at it, was he?"

"I suppose." Aaran closed his eyes, effectively closing the conversation

After about ten seconds, Renn piped up again. "Who put Murtagh to sleep?"

They laughed. Eragon grinned at her. "We can tell you're right as rain." Renn was mildly offended. She didn't talk that much, did she? The brunette shook his lengthening hair out of his eyes. "I did."

She nodded, impressed. "Good use of words. It could have been worse…did you just say the first thing that came into your head?"

"Um…yes." Eragon looked a little guilty. "I probably could have come up with something better, but it was a bit of a split second decision…"

Renn turned to look at the sleeping teen. He looked more peaceful than she thought she'd ever seen him. She'd known him a long time, since they were children. They'd always been firm friends, sharing a love of literature and learning. Once, he'd turned up in her library when she was around ten, with a large jug of wine. His hazel eyes had been sparkling with pre-teen excitement. They'd proceeded to drink the whole think between them. Neither would admit to actually hating the taste, as they thought they were being terribly grown up. The next morning had been the worst she'd ever experienced. Renn had never touched wine or spirits since. Needless to say, Murtagh was not put off in the slightest.

She smiled at the memory, wondering if she could help him now. Maybe if he had something to concentrate on that was stronger than the oath he was bound to by her father? She shook her head. There was very little power greater than that, and that which was, was generally inaccessible. At least, it was very hard to find. Her brother would have laughed for even thinking it, but Renn knew that love was stronger than her father, for all the King's denial of it's pathetic existence. She knew Lillian would agree, it was love that got them out; her love for them all made the spell strong, Eragon's love for his older brother made his spell strong…

Galbatorix may deny that love was useful in any way, but for Renn, it was something she believed in, and she would use it to her advantage.

She perceived a definite line between loving someone, and being _in_ love with them. She obviously adored and loved her siblings, and she loved Torket like a friend, and more recently Eragon too. Then there was Murtagh. Renn was always very definite in the way she felt; there were no if's or slightly's, and there was certainly no pansying around attempting to discern if what she felt was real or not. As far as she was concerned, she was very definitely in love with Murtagh. And that was that. She had been for some time, not that anyone knew, of course. That was another thing about her. She didn't lend her personal life out to anyone.

She sighed. She knew he loved her too, but they both knew that at this point, it wouldn't work. Of course, previously, it would have been impossible, considering who her father was…she suppressed a smile. When she was fourteen, they'd been closer than friends for a short while, largely due to teenage hormones, and she recalled the secret kisses and childish hand holding they'd shared for a few months. After that it had gotten dangerous, they'd nearly been caught by a servant, and they would both have been in a lot of trouble. So they'd agreed to call it off. Renn still remembered a tall, fifteen-year-old boy with dark, unruly hair and bright eyes promising her he'd always love her.

_--flashback—_

_She smiled at him. "Don't worry." Her high, childish voice was hushed as she and Murtagh held hands, her fingers lacing with his in affection._

"_I won't." He smiled back, but it was a sad one._

"_But…promise me…" She quavered,_

"_That I'll always love you?" _

_Her smile widened and she pulled him close, leaning her head against his chest. "Yes. That'll do." The girl closed her eyes, a contented smile playing about her lips. The two teenagers stayed like that for a moment, before breaking apart. Murtagh stared at her. "When we get out of here, we'll take up where we left off, ok?"_

"_Ok. When we get out."_

_They parted ways, and neither dared to look back._

_--end flashback--_

Of course, he'd left, after that, some time later. He'd never told her why, but he'd asked her to come with him. She had refused, albeit tearfully. She had been only seventeen at the time, and she'd been frightened of her father's reaction. Days later she'd witnessed his fury, and had heard how the person helping Murtagh, the man who'd provided him with an escape route and gone with him, had been killed. The boy had gotten away, and for months afterwards, she'd wished that she'd accompanied him.

Then, all too soon it had seemed, he was back. Part of her was ecstatic to see him, the other was sad. She had watched, heartbroken and miserable, as her own father had begun to destroy him from the inside out. He would have killed Murtagh, but for Thorn. She didn't know how or why the little red dragon had chosen now to reveal the identity of its Rider, but she was thankful he did.

Gradually they'd talked more, and shadows of the boy her best friend had once been had started to creep though the solid armour he had acquired since running away.

She smiled as memories continued to bombard her. Crazy. That's what her life had been. Absolutely bloody crazy.

But now she knew she could save Murtagh. She knew how to do it.

-------

Eragon was also lost in his own thoughts, or at least, that was how it appeared. He was, in reality, talking to Saphira. Concentrating hard, in fact. She had some interesting news.

_Although we stayed hidden, _she was saying, _we could see the movement. They're planning something big._

_What of Nasuada? _The dark skinned girl was important to Eragon even if she had abandoned him.

_I can't see her. I get the feeling she isn't in charge anymore…and I think it has something to do with you._

_What, you mean they sacked her because she was in charge when I got taken? That's rubbish, it was my fault, Arya would have said – _

_But would they have listened, little one? There are still a lot of men who feel that women are inferior. It would probably have been easy to oust her._

Eragon grimaced. If he ever went back, he'd make sure Nasuada was alright, and in charge. That was what Ajihad had wanted, after all. Pushing his liege lord to the back of his mind, he turned his attention back to Saphira.

_Mind if I take a look?_

_Feel free, Eragon._

"Skulblaka Svenn!" he hissed, ignoring the glances from his friends. His eyes glazed, and then he was seeing through Saphira's eyes. From what he could gather, she and Thorn were sheltering from somewhere above the Varden camp. He wondered briefly if the Varden even knew they could be spied on so easily. He registered Saphira's amusement in his mind somewhere, and grinned.

She was right. They were definitely on the move. There was a lot of activity, and, almost with relief, he spotted Arya amongst the masses. Satisfied she was alive, for he realised he cared little for any of their welfare, at least, not particularly, he moved on, searching for his cousin.

They'd left him with Galbatorix for a long time, and nothing had been done, there wasn't even a whisper. He resented them for that. Brom would have come. he would have.

He grinned when he finally found his cousin, but the grin quickly faded. Roran was sat, obviously dejected. Katrina was with him, also looking sad. Noting his confusion, Saphira hummed, _He's not looked so good all the while we've been here. My guess is, he feels slightly responsible for your capture. He left you alone, after all. I expect he wanted to go and find you._

_Then why didn't he? _Eragon murmured back, almost angry.

_By himself? That would have been suicide. By the looks of it, he is miserable about it. Seriously, he could never have taken on all of Uru'baen._

_I suppose not._ Eragon's brief anger abated. He knew he was getting better at controlling his temper, which was so reminiscent of his older brother's. He was a lot more calm, and although he hated to say it, it was mostly down to Galbatorix' training, which, whilst sporadic, had been rigorous and hard. He remembered one time Renn and Lillian patching up a gash that went from his neck to his stomach. He'd been given it because he'd lost his temper. Lying on the floor, he'd been screamed at, ironically, about magic use when in a temper…

Whatever the King's faults, he was definitely an interesting person. Completely evil, but interesting.

Satisfied that he now knew the Varden's movements, he retreated from Saphira's mind and sat in a brooding silence, ignoring those around him.

-------

Of course, those around him were very definitely used to it, and left him alone. Lillian smiled at the faraway look in Eragon's eyes, knowing he was lost in thought. She briefly considered offering him food, but since there was very little that was suitable for a vegetarian, she decided against it.

Shaking her head, the dirty-blonde girl lay back next to her sister, who was already drifting off to sleep. She knew they'd be safe with the boys around, so she had no reservations about letting herself sleep soundly and safely.

-------

Yay! Inner monologues for Renn! Sorry if it's boring, it was a bit of a romantic filler (I did say Within Temptation was the inspiration…), but the excitement's building in the next chapter, where at the end of it, it all sort of…explodes. You'll see.

So we see some very slight Murtagh-love from Renn… You ask, I shall give, you shall receive!

The bit about Eragon's training…that would have been earlier on in the story had I not edited it out. It was a tough decision, but I hated how it had been written…

Right. I'm off to round up my muses. In case the lawsuit doesn't work, I have enlisted the help of a large twig, my faithful converse and my pet fish Zexion (Kudos if you know who fishy darling is named after).

Well, we've got to 100 reviews…but unfortunately Shadow's photoshop has crashed. Not that I couldn't use paint or pencils, but I have to do art homework with those materials. And they are expensive. Grr. Ace has seen the lineart. Lucky Ace. However……It's not great. It's not even good. Ashamed Will hopefully get it onto deviantart soon. Whenever I find £200 to buy a new paint package…

Love you all!

Shadow

xx


	14. Chapter 14

Children of the Forsworn

Howdy. Feel happy! New chapter!

Now you should DEFINITELY be grateful to Within Temptation. I was listening to them on my ipod whilst hand-writing this. XD.

Show your gratitude by downloading their awesome music. LOL.

So this chapter is dedicated to them, for their incredible, inspiring music.

As you can probably tell, my muses have returned! Yay! They were unsuccessful in their attempt to run away :)

Disclaimer: Blahblahblah yadayada…nothing is mine except the OC's and the plot…yeah whatever.

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"Eragon, could I have a word?" The soft, almost musical voice cut into his thinking time.

"Hmm?" He turned around, meeting Renn's gentle blue eyes. She smiled and sat down next to him.

"You are so much like him. Your brother I mean." Eragon glanced at her sharply.

"What do you mean?"

"When you sit there, oblivious to the world, lost in your own head. He does that a lot."

Eragon smiled slightly. He wished he knew the dark haired boy better, which was no secret. Although he would never admit it to their faces, he was jealous of Renn and her siblings. They'd grown up with his brother, and he'd never had that chance. Part of him wished Selena had never run away. The other, infinitely more sensible part was glad that she had. "So. What did you want to say?" He asked.

"I want to wake Murtagh up. It isn't fair keeping him asleep."

Eragon ran his hand through his hair. "It's too risky. I don't know what would happen…and really, it's not fair to wake him up…not if he's going to get hurt."

-------

Renn was getting frustrated. "But how will Father even know he's awake again?"

"You think he won't be trying to get into Murtagh's mind every few hours? He isn't stupid…I don't want him to get hurt."

"And that's very noble of you, but, and I feel horrid saying this, I know him better than you do. He has his own way of dealing with this pain, and I'll help him. We've done it before, once or twice."

Eragon blinked. "What do you mean?"

"I guess you could call it easing the pressure somewhat. Only, I'm aware that this situation is highly different from the other times…"

"Other times?"

Renn's expression turned grim. "When he was brought back, the mental torture my father put that boy through was…hellish. He was so angry that Murtagh ran away, you see…and sometimes the pressure on your brother was intense, so he used to come to me for help. When Galbatorix was ripping his mind to shreds, I'd take some of the ache away, usually through simple telekinesis, or mind-jumping as the less educated refer to it as."

"Mind jumping? That's just the same as accessing another's mind, isn't it? Like how I can read thoughts?"

"Yes and no." Renn struggled to explain. "As well as contacting thoughts and feelings, those who are skilled enough can move those feelings around, into other parts of the mind, or into another 'intelligence'…are you following me?"

"I think so…you basically took the pain away by making it your own."

Renn put her head in her hands and laughed. "That was so much simpler than my explanation. You're right. Although…" here she blushed. "It cannot work unless there is a strong bond between the two practitioners."

"A magic bond?"

"No…an emotional one." Her blush deepened. Eragon grinned and nodded knowingly, but didn't speak again. Renn turned to look out between the trees, down onto the open country hundreds of feet below. It was a beautiful evening, the sun setting almost before their eyes, sending purple and pink hues onto the little clouds skittering across the sky in the light wind. The King's daughter relished the slight breeze that blew softly against her face She closed her eyes, smiling, getting a foreboding feeling that she'd not feel this sort of content for a while…

A voice snapped her back to reality.

"Alright. I miss him too."

"Hmm?"

"You can wake him up, if you think you can handle it. You obviously care about him enough if you're that sure."

Renn smiled. "Thank you, Eragon. I know I can do this…so can he."

-------

The first sensation was pain. Pain in his head…well he supposed it was better than feeling empty, like he had been for what felt like forever. His vision began to swim into focus as concerned voices floated above him.

"…be fine."

"…taking a while…come around…you sure?"

"Don't be stupid, of course he's sure. Now go away, sister, and give him some air."

That voice…he knew that voice. The most unforgettable words in his memory were the product of that voice… _"I would wait forever…"_ Renn…

Thoughts and feelings suddenly flooded back to him, and after a swift intake of breath, his eyes snapped fully open, and he was aware of his surroundings. His brother stood over him, palm glowing.

"Hey." The brunette murmured, offering him a smile. Murtagh glared at him. "Don't _ever_ do that to me again." He growled. Eragon looked shocked, and a little hurt. Then the older boy grinned. "But thanks." His brother gave him a somewhat relieved grin, and held out a hand, which Murtagh grasped.

On his feet, he swayed a little, shaking his still slightly foggy head. "How long have I been out?"

Renn was the one who spoke up. "A few days longer than me." She gave him a serene smile, her eyes closing, messy hair flying around her face.

"Oh…Gods, I forgot…guess it's stupid to ask if you're alright…since you're quite obviously unharmed!" Murtagh rubbed the back of his neck, offering the girl a grin, which she returned, opening her eyes. Then, the dull ache in the back of his head began to intensify. His hand went straight to the pain as he sat back down with a slight moan. Eragon turned to Renn. "Still think you can do it?"

"Of course." Murtagh watched Eragon move off a way before turning his eyes on the King's daughter. He eyed her warily, trying to ignore the growing agony in his head. "Do what?"

"This." Renn laid cool fingers on his temple and knelt in front of him, staring into his eyes. With an almost invisible blush, he gazed back at her, relaxing. He knew now, they'd done this before. He remembered the feeling of Renn's consciousness connecting with his own, it was very different to Thorn's…his dragon's mind was full of loyalty, whereas Renn's was full of passion and love. These feelings enveloped his damaged consciousness with a warm sense of gentle protection. He felt it now, and although the pain didn't vanish completely, it was greatly dulled by the intensity of the girl's concentration of emotions. Her fingers moved from his head to gently encompass his face. Staring into cerulean eyes, Murtagh found it extremely difficult to resist the temptation to close the very small gap between their lips.

He needn't have bothered. Renn did it for him.

-------

Eragon smiled, and then looked away, embarrassed, as Renn kissed his brother. Muttering some (probably unheard) excuse, he moved away, happy that the dark haired girl could look after Murtagh's mental health.

-------

Lillian scratched at her infernally messy blonde hair. The darn stuff had grown the past week or so, and the whipping wind from the ride on the dragons had tangled it into oblivion. It was also greasy and just plain…_ick_. She growled and in a fit of irritation messed it completely, running her hands through her hair again and again.

She stopped, however, when laughter reached her ears. Her brother and his best friend were laughing at her. "Having a 'moment', Lil?"

She flushed and glared at them. "You try having long hair, git." She got up, with the intention of finding some water to give her hair a semblance of a wash. She was stopped in her tracks by yet another grinning teenager. She stuck her tongue out at Eragon, who smirked. "Here, let me." He said. The little girl raised an eyebrow, her hands on her hips, just like her mother used to do. "What are you on about?"

"Your hair. Here." His hand made a gesture over her head, his fingers barely brushing the strands of dirty blonde hair. He made no sound, just smiled and lowered his hand. Lillian shot him a suspicious glance, wondering if he'd turned her hair a weird colour. It felt less greasy…she pulled some in front of her face.

"Hey…I'm impressed…" She murmured as she surveyed her miraculously clean, still blonde hair. "How'd you to that?"

"That's for me to know." He sniggered. Suddenly his expression turned serious and he cocked his head, eyes sliding out of focus. Lillian knew better than to interrupt. Aaran and Torket, seeing Eragon evidently conversing with Saphira, moved closer, curious.

After a few moments, the brunette came out of his little trance, expression grim. Aaran raised an eyebrow.

"Saphira says the Varden are moving, and the King's army are on the march. They're going to clash some way South East of here. There's no back up. It's a full-on frontal assault from both sides."

"So this is going to be it? No more skirmishes?" Lillian murmured.

"Yes. And we're going to be there."

-------

Phew. CLIFFHANGER!!! HAHAHAHAHAHA. Evil grin. The exciting bit is so close you can SMELL it. The next two chapters were planned a looooooong time ago, funnily enough, listening to Within Temptation's 'angels'. That's where this WHOLE CHARADE came from!!! Yay!

The 'I would wait forever line' was from an earlier, edited scene between the two characters. I didn't like how it turned out and it wasn't really part of the plot :)

I'm excited. There's probably about three-five more chapters, then an epilogue. Then it's all over!

Since I haven't been able to photoshop my fanart, I now need a new picture to draw…which I'll make paint-friendly…the question is, what of? Do you want a scene? Or a 'title page' sort of thing? Which scene is your favourite? Best idea will get drawn and PAINTED before the next update. It's my answer to the lack of a working photoshop program :)

Happy thinking!

I did laugh, though, at how many people have this on alert :) Thanks to all of you! There are about 40 I think! Yay! Don't forget to leave a review, they spur me on to write quicker! LOVE xxxx


	15. Chapter 15

Children of the Forsworn

Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaahhhh! No Idea where to even start!! Need a filler or the blank page will eat my brain. decided to leave this in :) it was me moaning about the blankness of the page. It had been there for about ten minutes and I was fed up of all the white :)

And we are into the action!!!!!! I won't pansy around, I know y'all just wanna read it…although action comes half way through this one…which is long…to make up for the abysmally short last chapter.

Songs listened to while hand writing: 'Cold' by Crossfade, 'Pain' by Three Days Grace' and 'Angels' by Within Temptation. They're the ones I listened to more than once, anyways.

A bit depressed by the lack of suggestions for artwork in the reviews…don't get me wrong, I LOVE getting them, but considering over 40 of you have this on alert…it seems a shame that only six or seven replied to tell me what they like! I neeeeed an idea for artwork, peoples! Come on! I got eighteen reviews for chapter eight! I WILL update quicker if I get more reviews..

Special message for **afireinside**: We should start a fan club! In fact…the Within Temptation Appreciation Society For Writers, or, WiTASFoW, is now officially founded. :)

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Looking around the small, makeshift campsite, it was almost impossible to believe that after such a hasty escape, they were going back. By choice. Aaran watched his sisters converse seriously in a corner. Lillian wanted to fight, and Renn was arguing with her. Blocking their conversation – he had no desire to enter into a female on female argument – he turned to his best friend. "How long do you think they'll be?" He murmured, referring to Eragon and Murtagh, who had gone to 'acquire' something a little more suitable to ride into the impending battle, knowing that Saphira and Thorn would attract unwanted attention.

Torket brushed platinum hair out of his eyes. "They wanted us to give them a day." He glanced at the sky. "I give them another few hours."

Aaran grinned wryly. His blond friend had an unbelievable grasp of time, which never ceased to amaze him. Sighing, he nodded and returned to his own thoughts.

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"Shut up!" Whispered the brunet, biting his lip to stop himself from laughing. His dark haired brother grinned back at him from his position, crouched about two feet behind Eragon.

"I don't know why we just can't bargain with the guy." 

"Why? We don't want to buy the horses, just borrow them for a little while."

"Sure, Murtagh, and the fact that they might die, like, _tomorrow_ won't affect our ability to bring them back safely?"

"No. Maybe. Probably. Yes." Murtagh shot him a half guilty, half exasperated look. "The longer we sit here, the more you're going to annoy me. So shut it and let me think."

"I can smell your brain burning."

"Shut _up_ Eragon."

The younger of the siblings sniggered again. Murtagh rolled his eyes, his head prickling with pain. Shaking himself, he crept out from their vantage point, halfway up a hill behind a boulder that, to his disgust, had been covered in sticky lichen that clung to his fingers. Standing up straight, he sauntered out, keeping his face hidden behind his dark hair. Making his way over to where the trader stood, surrounded by a dozen horses and the odd farm hand, he tried to give off the air of an interested businessman.

The trader gave him the once-over, and Murtagh wondered what he thought of him. Not that he cared; he just hadn't looked at himself in a while. He probably looked a bit of a mess…no matter how many times Renn told him he looked fine. She was biased, he thought with a slight smile. The trader must have decided he wasn't suspicious and ushered the farm hands away. "Interested?" He rasped.

"Maybe." The boy shot back, moving closer and mentally appraising the horses. They weren't the best, but he wasn't really expecting what he had gotten used to in his time at the palace, way back before all the drama. How complicated his life had become…he shook himself back to the present and frowned slightly. "What are they used to?" Murtagh muttered.

"They ent racers, but they'll do good runnin', and they'll work hard. Wi' a bit of trainin' they might even make half decent war 'orses, too."

"Who said anything about a war?" Murtagh asked sharply.

"Where you been? Its times like these I'm glad I'm a gypsy tradesman, I'll tell ya. I can bet you'll be hauled off to war soon."

Murtagh merely nodded. Gypsy trader? Suddenly he felt guilty about his initial plan to steal his stock, and sighing, he turned back to the place he knew his brother was hidden. "Brother?" He called, unwilling to use Eragon's name. Too many people knew who he was. "Come down here."

Eragon was beside him in seconds in a rush of black clothes and messy brown hair. The trader frowned, instantly suspicious. "And what was 'e doin', skulkin' around up there?"

"Nothing bad." Murtagh growled. "We're just suspicious by nature."

"He's very protective." Eragon threw in, grinning. Murtagh whacked him upside the head.

The trader relaxed. "I know all about family. Me kids were taken to be soldiers one by one. All I got left to remember me poor wife by is me little girl, Melian. She's my on'y family. I can tell by lookin' all you got is each other. You just make sure you take care of yerselves. Oy! Mellie! Get out here, we got a couple of customers!"

Murtagh glanced at Eragon, who wordlessly gave the older boy his pack, which contained the money the group of youngsters had contributed. "To business." The rough man growled. "What ya after?"

"As well as my brother and I, there are four friends of ours who also need a ride. They'll have to be good, it's going to be tough." Murtagh replied, deciding to do the honest thing. He was more like Selena than he thought, sometimes. The arrival of another person startled him. A small child, probably no more than about seven, smiled up at him and took over. "D'ya want girl horses or boy horses? Girls are easier to control, ya know."

Murtagh wasn't about to rain on her parade by telling her he already knew about horses, so he let the little girl chatter away in her thick southern accent. It never ceased to amaze him that young children seemed to latch onto him, despite how intimidating he knew he looked.

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It was about an hour before dusk, Torket mused, absent-mindedly sharpening his longsword. In preparation for the fight, he'd strapped his twin daggers to his chest in easy-to-reach places and put the throwing knives in their pouches. He was extremely proud of this skill, he'd tried to teach Lillian once, but she'd shown no aptitude, and despite Torket's insistence she'd be better with practise, she'd lost interest. Renn was better, her natural skill with a bow making her good, but she was good enough with her arrows already. Aaran was a far more hands-on fighter, who was always ready to fight with his fists. Lillian was skilled, but young. She would accompany them, of course, but Torket greatly doubted she would fight. Her siblings wouldn't let her. The twins were adamant she wouldn't fight, and as such, that was that. Aaran and Renn rarely agreed on anything, but when they did, they were unstoppable.

At the current time Lillian was huffing and pouting, sat down against a tree and glaring at everything. He felt a little sorry for the fierce, carefree girl. "Hey. Don't glare so munch or one day you'll not be able to smile again." He murmured. In response, she stuck her tongue out and glared at him even harder. He laughed and shook his head, loving her childishness. If he'd known how much she'd have to grow up during the course of the next day, he'd have treasured it a little more.

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Renn saw their arrival before it happened; she'd scried them barely moments before. They were arguing amiably, she noticed, and she smiled at how close they'd become, despite being bitter enemies barely a month before. She hailed them, hitching up her nuisance of a skirt.

"Murtagh! Eragon!" She waved and ran, flinging herself bodily into the older boy's arms. Eragon glanced away. He'd never understand public displays of affection. They embarrassed the boy with the sheltered background.

Renn detached herself from her lover's face (she could call him that now, she mused, after last night…) Murtagh smiled and put her down. She slid her hand into his and took the reins of two of the horses they'd brought back. Three stallions and three mares, she noticed, wondering which was whose.

Moments later they emerged in the clearing where they'd camped. there was no evidence they'd ever been there, the four left behind had made sure of that. Greeted by Torket and Aaran, then glared at by Lillian, the three of them tied the reins to nearby trees and sat down to eat.

Silence descended, each of them thinking about what they were about to do. Renn played with a fingernail, picking at it before ripping it off completely. "Nervous?" a low voice whispered in her ear. She leaned into Murtagh. "Scared." She replied. "Of dying, of losing Lillian, or you…my brother…or any of them." The dark haired teen sighed, pushing one of her long strands of hair out of her eyes. Murtagh wrapped his arms around her, saying nothing. She supposed there was little he could say to make her feel better; he was probably thinking the same thing. She took a deep breath, and stood. "We should go, before we change our minds."

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Lillian sat on her brand new chestnut stallion, whom she'd decided to call Seth. He followed her brother's horse at a canter. She found her heart beating painfully fast in her chest. She'd realised, despite her protestation, that she was almost glad she wasn't going to join the others in battle. They'd decided against revealing their identities straight away. She knew Eragon especially was worried about their reception by the Varden. He had spoken with her about this the night before, when he'd voiced his fears about the rebels. He thought they might see him as a traitor. An unwilling one, but still a traitor to their cause. And Murtagh was bound to cause some dissent. And her and her siblings? Forget about it…being who they were, they were going to have fun trying to prove their allegiance.

"Oh, Gods…" At her brother's voice, she glanced up. They stood at the top of a ridge. A fairly steep drop was in front of her, and beyond that…

She gasped, her hand flying to her mouth. She'd never seen so many people before. And they were all fighting. Dying. Tears were already pouring down her face as she listened to the blood curdling sound of screams. The roar of a dragon, the battle cries of Ra'zac. Her hands were on her ears, she was screaming too, her heart bursting at the shattering reality of war. her eyes were tightly shut.

Then a pair of arms wrapped around her, she was pulled off her horse onto the floor, where she sat, shivering, leaning against something. Looking up, trying in vain to ignore the sounds around her, she saw Eragon. He was rocking her back and forth, whispering words of comfort into her ear. She half turned her body, hugging him back. "Where did the others go?" She muttered, confused.

"They've gone already. They'll be fighting I expect. I said I'd stay until you'd calmed down."

"Don't you want to fight?"

"Of course I do, but I wasn't going to leave you here by yourself in that state." She shivered and buried her face in his shirt, the part of it that wasn't protected by metal.

"Don't leave me here. I can't watch you all go…I feel so useless."

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Eragon considered. He wanted to take the child with him, but the others would never forgive him for putting her in danger. He supposed that having the two youngest together, and on their own was stupid. They'd only left _him_ there after making him swear to find them as soon as he came down the slope. Glancing at the girl in his arms, however, crumbled the last of his resolve. "If you come with me, into battle, you must promise to stay right behind me and only strike in self defence. I don't want you in this battle. You're far to young."

"I'm thirteen."

"Exactly!"

"But you're only sixteen, come on, I can take care of myself!"

He had no reply. Despite Lillian's birthday making her legally old enough to fight, he was still concerned. If she'd been a boy…wait, that was sexist. Renn would have sliced him in half for that thought. He stood up and let go of Lillian. "Come on then. You'd better not get hurt." He said, mounting his black mare, Systrix.

"And you'd better not die. If you do, I'll bring you back to kill you myself. You made me a promise, Eragon Shadeslayer, and I'll be damned if I'm going to let you disappear before you fulfil that promise." She shot back, getting on her own horse. With a swift call, they both charged.

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Murtagh swung blow after blow, fighting his way through the King's soldiers, trying to get to the Varden's side. He quite wanted to see Nasuada, the woman was, he supposed, a good friend of his. She probably hated him, but still. His stallion, Temper, reared, and he only just held on, swinging at a man who'd dared get too close. There seemed to be a lot of interest in the arrival of four riders in black. The four of them had cut a sizeable hole in the foot-soldiers ranks. They'd been using a lot of magic to keep themselves shielded, and the strain was beginning to show. Renn was about ten feet away from him, a little way in front, crying out as she loosed arrow after arrow. She was keeping the swords and lances aiming at her at bay with a shimmering white shield made out of magic. The soldiers were evidently confused, wondering why their blows were glancing off to the side all the time. Murtagh would have laughed, but he was too busy trying to not die. He had decided not to bring up a shield, as they hindered your vision, which was alright if you were shooting, but not so helpful when you're parrying blows with a longsword.

Torket was furthest forward, hardly needing to use magic to protect himself. Daggers and Knives flashed every so often as his sword switched hands too often for Murtagh to count. He was transformed, eyes wild. He looked like some sort of demon, the speed at which he fought was terrifying.

Aaran was behind Murtagh, so when the older boy gasped in pain and almost fell, the King's son was right beside him. "What happened?"

Murtagh cursed, still trying to fend off blows as he inspected a long gash running down his thigh. "Bastard got through my defence. He switched sword hands, he surprised me."

"Keep it together."

He grinned at Aaran, before shaking himself and trying to ignore the intensifying ache in his mind. there was another shout from behind them. It was desperate.

"Murtagh!" He forced Temper around to see his brother and Lillian about fifty feet away. He cursed and went after them. Eragon had come off Systrix and was fighting with all the magic he could muster to keep the soldiers away from Lillian and Seth. He urged the young girl forwards just as Murtagh reached them. He didn't wonder why Lillian was here, he just accepted it. he'd question them both later. "Go to your brother! For goodness sake stay alive!" He cried. Lillian nodded, all tears gone, replaced by a blank look of disbelief. it appeared she was in shock and just doing whatever she was told.

Murtagh cried out as Eragon disappeared, meaning he was on the ground. Fear flooded him. He couldn't lose his brother, not again…

"_Why do you have to leave? Is it my fault?"_

"_No darling, of course not. I just…have to go and visit my brother for a while."_

"_Will you come back? Are you taking the baby?"_

"_Hush, darling don't forget, your father knows nothing about him…yes, he's coming, too. Now say goodbye, my cousin's here…"_

_The child looked at the small bundle of cloth and pink flesh that was his baby brother. A mop of light brown hair framed his sleeping face. "Bye bye, baby." he took in every detail, not wanting to forget…_

Almost falling off Temper, he used magic to send the soldiers flying. There was Eragon, mercifully alive, fighting desperately from the floor. Launching himself forwards whilst deflecting blows, he leaned over to drag his tiring brother to his feet, pulling him onto the black stallion. Eragon relaxed against Murtagh's back briefly, letting his brother keep the swords at bay while he got his breath back. After a few moments, he shook himself, and as they rode past Systrix, who was galloping wildly, he leapt onto her, calming her with a gentle word in the ancient language.

"Try and stay on her this time!" Murtagh shouted angrily. Eragon did not reply.

Pain suddenly flared in his head. He glanced at Renn, who was closest to him, realising that her sudden lapse in concentration as well could only mean one thing. He looked up just as the dragon Shruikan screamed loudly.

The King had arrived.

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Sorry to leave half way through the battle…but I really need the loo. See you next chapter!!! I PROMISE to update LOADS quicker than normal with this…

Oh, but before I go…Renn mentions certain 'happenings'…that scene was edited but may be published in a sub-thingy which will be just a bunch of cut-out scenes from this story :)


	16. Chapter 16

Children of the Forsworn

Thanks so much for the support you guys have given me after my last update (which wasn't really an update :S) It makes me feel a lot better knowing I still have my readers to come back to even though I've taken forever. This chapter has replaced the other one due to its sad and depressing content. Unfortunately this means those who offered their support won't be able to review again. I know you'll be with me in spirit though ;)

We're very close to the end now. This chapter is almost entirely fight scenes (which are sucky and actually not very fight-filled. I can't write them for toffee. Or chocolate. Now if it was cookies….)and some talky stuff. Possibly another three chapters altogether? Oh, and then an epilogue, too.

And THEN I can start the sequel (yippee yay…). Or the prequel. Depends which one you guys want first. Feel free to let me know whenever so I can enlist the aid of my muses.

So annoyed. Had to type this chapter TWICE because I lost it all the first time. Very frustrating…but I did promise the first of January...

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Eragon swore, loudly and creatively. He sensed Saphira's panic, although she was a long way off, and tried to calm her.

_Hopefully he doesn't know we're here. Relax._

The skirmishing seemed to have slowed as the fighters from both sides turned to watch. The huge black dragon circled once, twice, then dived, to screams from the crowd below.

He heard his brother swear. "Eragon, it's Nasuada! He's aiming for her!"

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Renn wasn't fighting in the traditional sense of the word. She was mildly amused by the looks on the soldiers' faces when they realised their careful aims were achieving nothing and their swords were glancing off what was apparently thin air. Her magical barrier was flawless, personalised and perfected to suit her and encourage maximum movement, whilst still completely averting almost any strike. All she had to do was breeze through the swarm of soldiers. She alternated holding the reigns of her horse, Cyrus, and nocking arrows in her bow.

She glanced around, looking for her companions. Satisfied that they were alright, she turned her attention to a particularly small soldier who was trying to trip Cyrus. She shot him angrily, remembering what Murtagh had told her the night before.

"They'd kill you in an instant. Don't give me this rubbish about 'they're only doing their job.' If you don't kill them, they'd kill you, or Lillian, or Aaran."

Tough rules, she mused, but she could understand why he'd said it. She felt Aaran nudging at the back of her mind, and she let him in.

_I can't see Lillian…she was with me a minute ago…_

_She's with Eragon again…I think Murtagh wants them to stay out of it all…_

_Why's she here? I told her to stay put._

_Yeah right, brother. Stop fretting, concentrate on staying alive…_

She broke off the contact just as one of the King's magicians shattered her shield. She cried out and swore as almost immediately a broadsword cut into her thigh. Angrily she shook herself and nocked three arrows, firing them with a cry of "_Brisingr!_". The flew off in different directions and exploded, leaving a clear pathway ahead, at least for the next fifty feet or so. She urged Cyrus on, taking advantage of the gap.

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On the other side of the battlefield, Eragon and Lillian were skirting the edge of the fighting throng on Murtagh's orders. Eragon's protest against this had been swiftly silenced by a murderous glare. They still encountered opposition, but it was nothing that the two youngsters could not handle.

Lillian was behind Eragon, picking off the one or two he missed. They were riding at a swift canter, and Eragon's shield was leaving very little room for any of the imperial soldiers to get a hit in. She shivered as she scanned the scene again. She hadn't expected something like this. The scale of the unfolding drama was huge; she'd never seen anything like this before.

She swung her longsword into yet another soldier, not daring to let herself realise what she was doing. She remember and be remorseful later. Thinking about remorse made her want to throw up. How many people had she wounded, hurt or even killed today? Certainly not as many as Aaran, or even Renn, but still. Sparring she could handle, running through a training dummy, that was easy. But swinging a lethal weapon at another human being, seeing their blood, and watching them fall to the ground was another world entirely. They were right, they were all right. She was too young for this…

She followed Eragon, who had veered off to the right, presumably for a reason. She felt numb. This wasn't her, she was somewhere else…somewhere else…calmly she continued to defend herself, her face void of emotion. If she forced herself to believe she wasn't really here, she might just get through this mentally sane.

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Murtagh wondered briefly if anyone had recognised him yet. He hoped not. They all hated him. He knew he looked different, and the absence of his dragon, (who was itching to join in the fight but being kept back by the older Saphira) was helpful. He was getting suspicious glances from the fighters who weren't soldiers, and he knew Eragon would be too, since he'd just seen him break into more 'friendly' territory. They could say nothing though; he obviously appeared to be on their side.

Murtagh charged on, catching sight of Nasuada and realising she was still in trouble. The young woman had shown him kindness when he'd been their captive all that time ago, and he felt somewhat indebted to her. Cutting down a bulky man who was slashing at Temper's ankles, he surged towards the dark skinned woman, who was surrounded by her council and inner circle, but outnumbered two to one by a large knot of soldiers who'd broken through the surprisingly vast throng of fighters.

Letting out a yell, he jumped into the fray, sensing rather than seeing Eragon a few seconds behind him on the other side of the mess.

Worryingly enough, he found the fighting exhilarating. It was nice to be fighting for the side he had chosen, he supposed. He excelled at fighting, so he enjoyed it, a trait he thought he'd probably inherited from his father. A disturbing thought.

He shook himself and for the next few minutes immersed himself in the fighting, parrying, blocking, attacking and defending faster than the eye could see. Soon he was face to face with Eragon and he grinned. The last of Galbatorix' soldiers were backing off, returning to their own ranks, and the fighting abated slightly.

"Thanks you for your help…strangers…" The last word had been said with a hint of a question. Murtagh turned to Eragon. "You handle this." He muttered in a low voice.

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Eragon didn't think they'd recognise him; he'd grown his hair over one side of his face to cover his scar, he was wearing black, and he was taller. He felt a brief flash of annoyance and resentment; they'd abandoned him after all. He glared at Murtagh for dropping him in it, and slid off Systrix and walking towards Nasuada. Murtagh jumped off Temper and stood behind him, offering him a reassuring smile Some of her council growled and moved closer to her.

"Oh stop it, idiots, it's me." Eragon snarled, flicking his hair out of his eyes and glaring at them all.

It went very quiet, although the battle still raged around them. Then, Nasuada gasped and moved towards him uncertainly.

"Eragon?"

"Who else? Someone had to come to the rescue."

"We thought –"

"I know what you thought. Contrary to popular belief, I _am_ alive, albeit slightly irritated…"

"Eragon." his brother said sharply from behind him. "Don't start that. Not now." Eragon stopped talking and glowered at the crowd, who were now all staring at him, slightly aghast. He could tell what they were thinking; who was this person to order Eragon Shadeslayer around? Why was the younger boy obeying?

Murtagh laughed hollowly, and the younger boy realised that he must be thinking the same thing. The council members' gazes turned to the dark haired boy, who glared at them all, daring them to challenge him.

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Instantly there were cries of "Traitor!" and "Murderer!" as they finally realised who the second boy was. Several of the men lunged forwards, swords drawn. Those who hadn't been told of Murtagh's betrayal were looking confused. Murtagh took a step back, throwing up his hands, but he needn't have bothered.

An explosion of magic sent them all flying back, but it hadn't come from Murtagh. Eragon stood with his hand outstretched, an expression of contempt on his face. He'd gotten darker, more dangerous, Murtagh mused, amused by the men's horrified expressions.

"Touch him and I'll kill you." He said, without a hint of cliché. They backed up nervously.

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Nasuada's gaze darted between the two, and she approached them both. They stared her down unflinchingly, their now guarded expressions mirror images of each other. She glanced at the small girl behind them. "This is Lillian" Was all Eragon offered as an explanation. The blonde girl glared at her.

She took a deep breath, glancing at Murtagh warily. "I don't know what's happened to you since we last met," She said to Eragon. "But are you sure we can trust him?"

"I trust him more than I'd trust any of you. And what's this 'we'?"

"The Varden, Eragon." She whispered. "You did come back to help us, didn't you?"

"What, like you helped me?" Eragon snorted.

"I'm so sorry." Nasuada was distraught, and it must have shown on her face, for Eragon took a step towards her. He was taller than her now. He placed a hand on her shoulder. "I don't hold grudges, Nasuada, I understand why no-one came after me. I didn't really expect anyone to."

She sighed sadly, this wasn't what she'd wanted when she'd started the conversation. "Are you going to tell me what's going on?" She indicated to Murtagh and Lillian, but Eragon shook his head. "Later. All you need to know for now is, we're here, there are only six of us, but we _are_ going to help you. Murtagh is on my side, none of you should doubt him. He _can _be trusted, upon my word as a Rider." He swiftly repeated the last sentence in the ancient language. "Maybe I am still angry, but there are more important things to worry about now."

She nodded as he indicated the madness behind him.

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Eragon smiled at her. "We'll talk later, I promise. You're hurt." He muttered, nodding at her shoulder, which had a long gash in it. "While there's a gap, go back to the camp and get it fixed. Someone has to lead this rabble, and I'd rather you than anyone else." Nasuada offered him a grateful smile. He turned around, catching sight of Renn and Aaran skirmishing with a band of persistent soldiers. Glancing at Lillian, he pulled the younger girl towards him and gave her a swift hug. "Stay with Nasuada. Go back to the camp with her, I can't be worrying about you, and I know you don't want to fight." Lillian nodded numbly and he smiled at her.

Swinging himself onto Systrix, he waited a couple of seconds for Murtagh to climb up onto Temper, then he rode off, re-entering the fray with renewed vigour, his brother right behind him.

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My hand hurts :(

That was such a struggle, it's really hard for me to get battle scenes right. They don't even have any fighting in them. Argh. Tell me what you think? Next (much longer) chapter's release date will appear on my profile within a couple of days.

Love and fluffles (sneeze)


	17. Chapter 17

Children of the Forsworn

Well this chapters up a lot later than expected mostly because it was such a b-tch to write. Have I mentioned I hate battle scenes? I definitely should have planned this out before starting…I might not be having so much trouble with the last scenes…

whilst still searching around for a dedicatee for this chapter, I got a PM from a person called eragon85 asking when the next chapter was on the way on their sisters behalf :) So this chapter is dedicated to them. Hope you enjoy.

So…this is the chapter that inspired the whole story :) The lingering thought that popped into my head whilst listening to a song by Within Temptation. (She says, listening to Avril Lavigne in the background) SOOOO…hopefully I can write it as well as it appears in my head…this WILL be hard.

Thanks for all the reviews…

Ooh, mustn't forget the disclaimer: I OWN NOTHING. NADA. SQUAT. Come on, people, we know who owns it all…say it with me now….Mr Paoulini? That'll do.

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The earth was stained red, Saphira could see that from her vantage point high above the maelstrom of flesh and metal below. Dark clouds dulled the scene; and even they looked tinged with crimson. Rain had begun to fall from them.

_The World cries._ Thorn murmured with an accompanying growl. Saphira said nothing, but a low humming agreement sufficed as an answer.

_This is it, isn't it? There will be an end now?_ The question sounded juvenile, and Saphira looked at her younger companion in surprise.

_You don't feel it? This is the end, whatever the outcome; there will be no more fighting, no more war…_

_Is that good?_

_It will be for a little while, but as is the nature of humans, the peace will not last forever. We can hope for, at most, the fighting to stop for our lifetimes. I would hate to watch them make the same mistakes. I feel sorry for Glaedr…how many enemies has he seen rise from the depths of hell?_

Thorn remained silent. Saphira turned her eyes back to the carnage below them, seeking her Rider. When she found him, she breathed a sigh of relief, even though she knew she'd have felt it if he'd got seriously hurt. Her young companion was keeping close to his brother, and between them they were carving a path, heading towards the other three youngsters they'd travelled with. Torket and Aaran were closing an apparently injured Renn into a spell-circle, protecting her from the barrage of people all trying to get to her.

Suddenly alarm bells rang in her mind and she twisted her head, knowing and dreading what she'd see. Shruikan soared towards the group of friends, so easily distinguishable, dressed in black in the red-armoured crowd.

_Eragon, you've been spotted!_ She cried. At the same moment her little one's voice sounded in her head. _Saphira! Help!_

_Come on, Thorn, this is it!_

Receiving no answer, she took off with a loud roar, the battle armour Eragon had carefully helped her don earlier clanking and creaking. Shruikan was ahead by a little way, and his voice rang in her head

_I'm sorry, young one…fly fast, you must reach the child before my master…_

Surprised, Saphira put on a burst of speed and flew past the black dragon and his even blacker rider, Thorn right behind her. Shruikan would slow down, but there was a limit to what he could do of his own free will.

_I can feel the King…He tries to call my name…_ murmured Thorn, shifting in the air uncomfortably.

_Be glad it is you he concentrates on; your boy would have no chance. _Saphira reminded him.

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Murtagh had screamed in agony and fallen as soon as the King had spotted him and concentrated his anger on the boy's mind, calling his true name with a vindictive fury. Renn, Aaran and Torket were nowhere to be seen.

Eragon jumped down, shielding himself and his writhing brother from the onslaught of fire that heralded the King's imminent arrival. "Murtagh!" He grasped his flailing arms and pulled him into an embrace. _Saphira! Help! _He called. "Murtagh! Please concentrate on my voice! You're stronger than this! Stronger than him!" Murtagh howled in agony and fear as his eyes opened. The once hazel irises were now tinted with red.

"…Brother…?" Eragon whispered, as everything seemed to go quiet, though he was sure he was imagining the lull. Murtagh stopped wildly convulsing and stared up at Eragon. Then he grasped his little brother's arm. "He's taking over, Eragon…I can't stop him…"

"Yes you can, please, you have to! Think of me, of us, of everything we missed because of him! Think of…of Thorn, of Renn! You love her, right? That on its own is stronger than him!"

"You…you have to go…leave before I hurt you…"

"You wouldn't! I don't…I won't believe it!"

"GO!" At this shout, Murtagh threw the younger boy off him and called his sword to his hand in one swift motion. Even as Eragon looked up to see three dragons almost falling out of the sky towards them, his brother's sword was at his throat. Lying sprawled on the floor, propped up on his elbows, Eragon was utterly powerless.

Red eyes glared at him, the pupils wide and black – so black they looked like pure darkness. A smirk was on Murtagh's face, not the one Eragon knew, a different, malicious one.

"Murtagh…" The sword pricked his throat, preventing him from uttering another word for fear of slicing himself open. He tried a different method.

_Murtagh…its me, it's Eragon, your brother! I'm not your enemy! Please…listen to me, you can fight this!_

-------

Murtagh was in utter turmoil. His mind was not his own, the King was controlling his every move. He heard Eragon's voice, so the King moved his sword hand to prevent the younger boy from speaking. _No…no…please, I can't kill him, don't make me…_

_Murtagh…its me, it's Eragon, your brother! I'm not your enemy! Please…listen to me, you can fight this!_

Growling deep in his throat, Murtagh shoved against the mental restraints Galbatorix had wreathed around his mind. _I won't let you make me kill him! I won't! I can fight you!_

_Fight me?_ The King snorted derisively._ How can you fight me? I am in control! I have your name…_

_No! I can, I'm stronger!_

_No, boy, you're a coward, a servant, no, a slave to my will! There is NOTHING you can do!_

_No…_

_Kill him, Murtagh. Kill him slowly…_

_No!_

_Do it!_

_No…I won't! _Murtagh screamed in anguish as his mind repelled the pressure that was Galbatorix. With a final effort he expelled the presence from his mind with a shout of finality.

-------

Eragon, pale-faced and breathing heavily, watched as his brother's eyes returned slowly to their hazel colour, after a few agonising seconds when he'd stood still, sword at Eragon's throat, apparently fighting the King in his own mind. Horror filled his brother's face as he threw the sword aside and pulled his brother into a tight embrace. Eragon's shield still held, but was faltering.

"I'm sorry…I'm so sorry…"

"Why? You were brilliant, you were stronger…"

Murtagh pulled away. "Your shield, it's breaking…"

_Right on time! _Saphira's musical voice rang in both their heads as her and Thorn swept past, catching their riders in their claws with well-practiced ease. Eragon grinned up at Saphira, and marvelled that the entire struggle had taken place in about ten seconds. The grin disappeared fairly quickly when he turned his head after clambering onto her back, and saw that the King and Shruikan were merely millimetres behind. Thorn had veered off, giving Murtagh time to recover. The king's murderous gaze was fixed on Eragon, and they were close enough to hear his shout.

"I will kill you, boy! I will kill you and bind your dragon to my will! I'll destroy you, and your brother!"

_Saphira…are we going to fight him?_

_I think that's fairly obvious, little one._

_I mean now…cause it looks a lot like we're running, and I really want to kill him…_

_Easy, now. Don't forget Oromis' training. Your anger doesn't help you. _

_It certainly seems to help him. _Eragon grumbled. "Shall we, then?" he shouted, willing his sword to appear in his hand with a whispered word. Saphira growled in answer and swerved around. They were close enough to the ground to hear the collective gasp this action elicited from the soldiers and Varden assembled on the ground. A cheer went up from the Varden side, and vaguely Eragon heard his name called.

Then the dragons clashed together, with a screech and a howl, as flesh and steel smashed into each other. They clawed at each other, spitting and hissing, roaring. They spiralled, both riders having to cling tightly to remain seated. Within seconds, Eragon was in reach of the King, and they swung at each other, blades clashing in time to the screaming of the dragons. Straight away, the brute strength of magic-infused muscle bore down on Eragon as he was forced to lean back from the sheer force of Galbatorix' swing. The king pressed on the blade, his face centimetres from Eragon's. Then the dragons shifted under them and the pressure was lifted. Gasping for breath, the brunette shifted his sword, trying to soothe his wrist and shoulder, both of which were aching from the strain of the previous parry.

Thorn arrived in a whirl of claws and teeth, attacking from behind. Murtagh had acquired his bow, and was loosing spelled arrows at the King. Galbatorix screamed a spell and the arrows glanced off, forcing Eragon to duck.

All three dragons were still flying; they'd covered a fair distance and almost crashed into the crest of a hill that had loomed up out of nowhere. With a screech, they separated, all three bleeding and snarling. Saphira was worst off, blood ran from her neck and sides, her left wing was in tatters, and it was clear that she was struggling just to stay in the air. Eragon leaned forward and whispered a healing spell, soothing her, all the while glaring at the King. They flew, all three, up and up, Thorn and Saphira spiralling around Shruikan, who was looking for a way out. With an angry screech, the black dragon looped back on himself and shot towards the ground like a bullet. Galbatorix let loose a whirlwind of fire, which caught both younger boys by surprise. Murtagh blocked it with a quick hissed word in the ancient language, but Eragon wasn't quite quick enough. He screamed as Saphira hastily backed off, giving Shruikan the exit he needed.

As black dragon and rider screeched past, the King fired another spell at Eragon, sending a bolt of silver light straight towards him. It connected with the boy's shoulder instantly, and he cried out, almost sliding off Saphira as his hand left her scales to clutch his arm.

-------

Murtagh headed for the battling dragons, recovering from his spell, which had drained him somewhat. The Thorn stopped and doubled back, screeching as a hail of spelled arrows flew upwards at him, fired by the King's magi.

_I can't get through!_

Murtagh swore, the arrows and what looked like a barrier of shimmering light now stood between him and Eragon. He hadn't even heard the King speak, he must have ordered his magi to split them up…

Desperately he tried to break the barrier, but as powerful as they were, they stood hardly a chance against the King's elite team, which was a hundred strong at least. Then there was an agonising pain in his chest, his vision flashed white and he knew no more.

-------

Shruikan didn't have control of his own mind. He struggled and struggled, but was unable to move. He was beginning to resign himself to the fact that anything he did to help was going to have to be no more than a very slight deviance from the King's intentions. Therefore, when the King turned the dragon to smash into Saphira in the hopes of hurling the boy to the ground, which was still fifty feet below them, he changed his course ever so slightly.

The result was catastrophic. Instead of glancing off the sapphire dragon's side and forcing her into a roll, he smashed into her full-on.

_I'm sorry, this was the only way_. He called to her, although he didn't think she'd head him. Both dragons fell towards the ground, winded by the collision. Wings refused to beat, as entangled as they were.

-------

Renn watched her father and Eragon fall, her mouth open in horror as they smashed into the ground, at least half a kilometre from her. She had a tight hold on Aaran, who had been knocked unconscious when a sword hilt had smashed into the side of his head. Torket had disappeared into the throng of red clad soldiers, and she couldn't spare any magic locating him, as all of her reserves were currently fighting to keep her brother alive and the shield around them intact.

She was in absolutely no position to lend a hand to anyone. For a moment after the crash, nothing moved. A few people were running towards them, shouting out to the fallen riders.

Then her father emerged, dragging Eragon, who was struggling. Even from this distance she could see he was in pain, staggering behind the King, who threw him to the floor at his feet. Renn screamed, but couldn't move. If she moved, Aaran would die, and if she stayed, her father would kill Eragon, she was certain.

She looked around desperately. Thorn was too far away, battling the King's magi, she couldn't see Murtagh at this distance, Torket…where was he?

She turned back to Eragon, who was trying to scramble away in a futile attempt at escape. Just as the King raised his bloody sword with the black blade, a figure hurtled towards the two out of nowhere, and Renn nearly fainted when she figured out who it had to be.

-------

Lillian wrenched herself from Nasuada's firm hold as soon as she saw the dragons start to fall. She sprinted towards the spot they were heading for, between her and the battlefield, screaming as they crashed into the ground. Neither dragon moved, but after a few moments the King emerged, throwing Eragon to the floor after dragging him out. She was close enough to hear her father speak.

"You are finished, boy. Where can you go now? There is no-one here to save you, and you…are pitifully weak compared to me."

Eragon said nothing, his eyes open but full of pain as he clutched his shoulder. Blood ran from both corners of his mouth, and from his nose. A large gash on his left cheek also oozed blood. He was gasping for breath and trying to scramble backwards.

"It is futile to try and escape. I will kill you, there is no-one coming…" The King smirked down at Eragon, oblivious to the small girl running full pelt towards him, so intent on his task.

"Yes there is!" Lillian screamed just as Galbatorix brought his sword down on Eragon. Lillian drew her own sword, painfully small next to the King's and threw herself in the way. The sheer weight of the blow sent her crashing to the floor, landing almost on top of Eragon. It worked, though. Her father's sword glanced off to the side, and she scrambled to her knees, quickly followed by Eragon, who gathered her into his arms. They knelt together as Galbatorix staggered backwards, regaining his composure and swinging his sword around.

"Lillian." It wasn't a question. The King looked at her impassively. "Don't force me to kill you."

"You'd kill me?" Lillian shouted, glaring. It wasn't a shock to hear that, but it still hurt that her father saw her as merely an obstacle. She forced the sadness away and clutched Eragon, burying her face in his shoulder.

"If you don't move, then yes." The King said emotionlessly, although anger boiled in his eyes. She choked and her hand found the hilt of her sword. She drew it to her. "You can't kill him. He's my friend…" She murmured, glaring up at him. Galbatorix snarled at her. "He is our enemy, girl! Don't be stupid!"

"He's YOUR enemy, not mine!" She screamed as he lunged towards them. Eragon pulled her to his chest and tried to shout a spell, but he was clearly too exhausted. With a huge effort, she pointed her blade away from her, her hands shaking as her own father plunged his sword into her.

"LILLY!"

-------

Well. I HATED DOING THAT. I think it sucks :(

Maybe all authors think that at the pivotal chapter…do you wanna know who survives? Tough. I'm sure you can wait a little while, you've put up with my annoying-ness so far…SORRY! Actually, after writing this chapter I find myself far more into the story than I have been for a while, so…I'm going to say I'll have the next chapter up WITHIN THE WEEK. How's that for an ultimatum? (gulps…) Besides, I want to know who dies as much as you do ;)

I have to say, I was re-reading some of my earlier chapters, and my favourite part so far is actually Shruikan's inner monologue-ing in chapter ten!

I had to stop. My brain hurt.

LOVE YOU ALL SO MUCH

Shadow

xxx


	18. Chapter 18

Children of the Forsworn

Well, what an exciting chapter we had last time…here's the promised update! It was even quicker than anticipated, I was spurred on by Yashamew… I won't waffle on too much.

This is for ALL of you who supported me, as this is the last chapter! (Aside from the epilogue of course.)

Disclaimer: Chris Paoulini wrote Eragon. May he live long and prosper, and also may he hurry up and write the third book before we all explode.

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"_He's YOUR enemy, not mine!" She screamed as he lunged towards them. Eragon pulled her to his chest and tried to shout a spell, but he was clearly too exhausted. With a huge effort, she pointed her blade away from her, her hands shaking as her own father plunged his sword into her._

"_LILLY!"_

-------

Renn completely freaked out as the King collapsed on top of her sister and Eragon. _What the hell just happened? _She screamed in her head to anyone who was listening. She was vaguely aware of a lot of shouting and expletives, and a lot of noise as she struggled with the dead weight of her brother. Her brain was fogged, she couldn't think properly. Minutes, maybe hours passed, as the shock started to take hold of her body. The magic she was using to help Aaran was slipping, as was the shield.

"Nn…I…help me…" She muttered numbly.

-------

Torket fell to his knees beside his fallen best friend and his sister. "Renn! Aaran! The army's in disarray, the Varden, they…I think we've won…I…Renn!" The dark haired girl blinked owlishly at him, clinging to Aaran. She was in shock. "Tor…I…Lilly…she…"

"Renn?" Torket called some of the Varden over. Those who weren't driving the army away came to him. "Help me with her, she's in shock…can you take her back to…wherever you're based…and help her?" He stammered, gently prying Aaran from her grip. He easily lifted the unconscious boy into his arms and over his shoulders. "I'll follow you…I don't know where the others are…"

-------

Thorn, finally able to follow Saphira onto the floor, landed ungracefully on the floor, turning immediately to his Rider.

_Murtagh!_

His cry was joined by a second. "Murtagh!" Eragon lay a few feet away, shaking violently, tears coursing down his face, mixing with the blood on his face. Lillian lay, tiny in his arms, a dark stain on the front of her tunic. Eragon had his hand pressed to the wound. Beside them, the King lay, Lillian's sword sticking out of his back. He was dead.

Thorn nuzzled Murtagh, who had a spelled arrow sticking out of his chest. He turned to his Rider's younger brother, and pushed Murtagh over to him.

_Help him? _He said in a very small voice. Saphira let out a little growl and shifted painfully. Thorn turned to her, growling in sympathy. Then something clicked in his head.

The King was dead. Galbatorix had been defeated. By his own, thirteen year old daughter.

There was a sad irony to that, he mused, but he shook the thought from his head and turned his attention back to more important matters.

-------

Eragon whimpered, feeling a little lost and very small. Extending the hand that wasn't wrapped around Lillian, he puller his brother close and glanced at the arrow. Gasping for breath, he was about to pull it from Murtagh's chest, before a shout that sounded very distant stayed his hand.

"Stop! Not yet!" He glanced up and caught sight of Nasuada, closely flanked by Arya. He wanted to greet them, but his hands were no longer responding to his brain. The dark skinned woman gently prised his brother from his grip, while Arya looked over him and Lillian, appraising them with a healers expert eye. Apparently she sensed his inner panic and pulled him close, into a half-embrace.

"It's nothing either of you can't recover from, if given the right treatment." Eragon would have gasped with relief, had he not been so exhausted. Arya continued. "Let me take her back; then I'll come for you, help you walk."

"What about my brother?" He whispered.

"Nasuada will look after him. I'm sure he'll be fine." She took his hand away from Lillian's wound, and laid him back against the ground, whispering a word in the ancient language.

-------

Arya motioned to a few of the Varden who had accompanied her, and they picked up the now sleeping boy and began to follow Nasuada, who had already left. The elf then turned to the little blonde girl lying on the floor. Odd, was this really the child of Galbatorix? She'd never heard of any issue, then again, she was not well aware of the politics of court, as she'd not been in much of a position to make notes the one time she was there.

She knelt beside…Lilly, had Eragon called her? Dried blood matted her left side, and she did a closer inspection of the injury. She'd been right, the wound was not fatal, as long as the right things were done to prevent infection and close up internal bleeding, spells only healers would know. Of course, elves had much more time to learn the art of healing than ordinary humans, and Arya considered herself a perfectly adequate medicine woman. She decided to 'operate' as it were, before moving the girl, just in case. Her brow furrowed in concentration as she moved a hand over the wound and began a complex string of utterances that would hopefully fix the child. She was very lucky. If the King hadn't impaled himself on her raised sword, which was what she assumed must have happened, the black blade might have got as far as her lungs.

It was sad, she mused, that someone so young could have so many scars. She didn't have to see them; she could sense them, both physical and emotional. She'd be unwell for a long time. Arya wondered what would become of her. She was so young to be on her own, although she didn't doubt that Eragon and Murtagh would see to it. Who were the other youngsters they had arrived with? More children of the King? Of the Forsworn, like Eragon, and indeed Murtagh?

Breaking off the healing spell, she gently picked the girl up and headed for the camp, where she knew there would be basic medical supplies. She'd finish there.

-------

The two sons of Morzan lay next to each other, one sleeping, the other unconscious. Arya laid the blonde girl down on the bed opposite Eragon, where she administered some lotion that would prevent any infection from slowing the healing process.

Presently, Eragon stirred behind her. Without looking up, she waved him over, and the boy, who had acquired a sling from one of the healers and was looking at it in a rather bemused fashion, made his slow way over. She glanced at him. "Your arm broke in three places from the fall. You're lucky it wasn't more serious than that." Eragon grinned weakly, clearly still a little disorientated. His eyes glazed over and the elf princess recognised he was conversing with his dragon.

As soon as he was done, she raised an eyebrow. "Is Saphira alright?"

"Thorn's looking after her." Eragon replied with a slight grin. "What about Lillian?" He said, the smile disappearing as he caught sight of her behind Arya.

"So that's her name. She, and the others, are they all sons and daughters of Galbatorix?"

"Yeah…no…um, some of them…" Eragon shook his head and Arya rolled her eyes. "She and your brother are going to be fine in a day or two. I promise I'll look after them. You should probably go and find your other friends, and let them know."

Eragon made to leave, then frowned and turned back. "Arya Svit-kona, may I ask you one thing?"

"Yes…"

"When…when they took me…why didn't you come?" It sounded childish and almost whiny, but she supposed he had every right to be upset.

"I wanted to." She growled. "Believe me I wanted to with every fibre of my being. But one elf, as all the men of the Varden so loved to remind me, had no chance of performing a rescue from Uru-baen by myself." She left it at that, and after a moment, Eragon nodded, and turned to leave.

"Wait…" he spun round once more. "I would have followed you to the end…but it looks like you have someone more suited to the job, now." She indicated the girl on the bed, and Eragon flushed, before practically running out of the tent.

She smiled and shook her head.

-------

Three hours, twenty six minutes and forty three seconds. Renn stared into space and Torket counted seconds. Aaran lay between them, having not moved since they brought him in. Which had been precisely three hours, twenty six minutes and forty _seven_ seconds ago. His best friend lay pale as death, hardly breathing. Healers checked in on him every half an hour or so, but always they shook their heads. Which was never a good sign. Torkets emotions were haywire, but when he turned to Renn, she looked strangely calm.

At his questioning glance, she murmured, "It looks bad, Tor…but I'd know if he…" she trailed off, turning back to her brother. At least she could sit with him now. A couple of hours ago she'd been rushing between Murtagh, Lillian, Aaran and her own assigned healer, who'd been trying, and failing, to get her to stay still. However, once Lillian had opened her eyes and said "Ow…" and she'd been informed that her lover was _not_ going to die and would recover, she'd sat down, much to the relief of Clarice, the nurse who was treating Renn's cuts and bruises.

It was just Aaran's life now, hanging in the balance. He looked fine now, barely a drop of blood on his clothes. A large white bandage obscured his left eye and forehead. Patches of red had seeped through the white material, but for now, the bleeding had stopped.

A hand rested on his shoulder. He jumped, and turned to find Eragon stood behind him, arm covered in bandages and some sort of salve on the skin of his face, which had been badly burnt by the King's spell fire.

The King. It seemed almost…anticlimactic. Then again, he supposed it hadn't been for Eragon, Murtagh and Lillian. The man's body had been burnt, somewhat unceremoniously. It had been an accident, apparently; the people sent to recover the body had found it reduced to ashes. After a brief panic when people assumed he's got away, Arya had calmly told them that the ashy remains on the ground were most definitely the King's. People knew not to question her.

"Murtagh is awake…sort of." The boy sighed. Torket shot him a questioning look. "He isn't saying much, I think the spell fire seared his throat. He might not speak for a while…which can only be a good thing."

Torket smiled weakly at the attempt at humour.

-------

Within a day, Lillian was beside Renn, having been given a relatively clean bill of health by Arya, whom the teenager decided she liked. The elf was aloof and haughty, but had a kind heart, really.

Although her mind was not on the elf princess right now. Her brother still lay, cold and unmoving, his breathing shallow, his chest barely rising and falling. Renn held his left hand and Lillian held his right. It had been hours since she'd first joined Renn by Aaran's side, and she was already tired and fidgety, though she knew Renn had been there for almost two days straight. Nothing anyone said could move her from her twin's side. Lillian could only imagine what she was going through, the two were very different people, but as twins, they shared a connection that ran deeper than blood, and it was a connection she envied, although she wasn't sure she could handle having someone else's mind running tandem with her own…

They'd always been close, even after they developed their own personalities. She hadn't been jealous of the fact they'd had each other, she'd had Murtagh (who at the time was _way_ more interesting – he was older and could pick her up and throw her around.)

Then Aaran's fingers moved around hers, clenching and unclenching ever so slightly. She froze, and squeezed back, probably harder than was absolutely necessary. A pained groan came from the bed, and both sisters leapt to their feet. Almost instantly they were surrounded by nurses and healers, and she felt a gentle, familiar hand pull her away from the scene. As she let herself be led away from her brother and sister so that the healers could work, she looked up at Eragon, the boy she had decided she loved.

Then she smiled, and something inside her decided that everything would be all right, now.

-------

TA DA!!!! The End.

…

OKAY…I'm a sucker for happy endings. Actually Aaran was going to die but I hadn't the heart to do it…If you wanted some of them to die, TOUGH. There, yashamew, you got what you wanted (so did I)

Ooh, free doodle to anyone who can correctly guess how the King's body got destroyed…

AND…aside from that…we have two obvious pairings, but what about the other two boys? I have my thoughts as to who they end up with (because they can't be lonely for the rest of their lives) but feel free to suggest someone. Anyone. It might be a better choice than what I have in mind….so let me know. Really, LET ME KNOW.

Wow, do you realise, originally, when this idea first came to me, there weren't going to be ANY OCs at all, and the story was going a completely different direction? I have NO IDEA why I included so many original characters, but some of you appear to like them, which is good. At least they weren't totally Mary Sue/Gary Stu ish…

I also got Arya totally wrong, but I don't suppose it matters much.

Expect the epilogue withintwo weeks (its long and memory filled), which will also work as a set up to the (possible) sequel.

So…your thoughts:)


End file.
